


Heiress

by DhampirsDrinkEspresso



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Archery, Arranged Marriage, Attempted Murder, Babies, Baby Vomit, Bathtub Sex, Bennie Has Something Against Clean Shirts, Birth Control, Biting, Bladed Weapons, Blades, Bows & Arrows, Breastfeeding, Breeding Kink, Broken Bones, Bruises, Bubble Bath, But Everything Is Consensual Between Rey and Kylo, Caretaking, Children, Deposed Royalty, Devoted Kylo Ren, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Disorganized Crime Might Be More Accurate, Dominant Kylo Ren, Don't Touch Kylo's Wife, Explosions, Explosives, F/F, F/M, Fear of Abandonment, Flashbacks, Food, Food Issues, Gun Violence, Hair-pulling, Human Threepio, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Illegal Activity, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injections, Internalized Misogyny, Kitchen Sex, Knife Throwing, Knives, Lack of Communication, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Love Bites, M/M, Malnutrition, Manual Restraint, Marriage of Convenience, Married Reylo, Mentions of Bad Guys willing to Murder, Mild Blood, Mildly Dubious Consent, Murder, Mutual Pining, No Actual Cheating, No Express Consent Given, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Linear Narrative, Nyctophobia, Oblivious Kylo Ren, Oblivious Rey (Star Wars), Oral Sex, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Shift in Epilogue, Panic Attacks, Pet Pug, Pining, Political Uprising, Possessive Kylo Ren, Praise Kink, Praise Kink if you Squint I Guess, Pregnancy, Pregnancy of a Supporting Character, Private Investigators, Protective Kylo Ren, Reckless Driving, Reylo babies, Scars, Sexual Content, Shooting, Spit Up, Stabbing, Stress, Surveillance, Switch Rey, Tags May Change, Talk of Pregnancy, Target Practice, Threats of Violence, Torture, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Vomit, Vomiting, Warnings May Change, Weapons, Weapons Of Opportunity, Wildflowers and Bacon, beatings, blisters, bloodless coup, catching feelings, firearms, giggling during sex, guard dogs, implied threats, loss of appetite, migraines, no actual murder, separate bedrooms, sleep issues, small humans, weight loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 58,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DhampirsDrinkEspresso/pseuds/DhampirsDrinkEspresso
Summary: Rey thought she was nothing, no one, and then she was dragged into a life of luxury. She agreed to the arrangement, a marriage of convenience joining powerful families, and it was fine-shewas fine-until she did the unthinkable and fell in love with her husband.
Relationships: Bazine Netal/Phasma, Kaydel Ko Connix/Rose Tico, Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 308
Kudos: 675





	1. The Ultimate Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will likely be spotty, as with everything else I have going right now.
> 
> Tags will be updated as needed so please check those with each chapter. As of chapter 1 there is no pregnancy or discussion of pregnancy but that may change. I tagged mildly dubious consent because there is no express consent given in chapter 1, but please know that all activities are fully consensual. This story will likely be non-linear and may be heavy on flashbacks as I tend to do that a lot. POV will alternate between Rey and Kylo/Ben.
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's been teasing her husband all night. Now that they're home, he can do something about it.
> 
> _“Say it.”_   
>  _  
> She drew a shaky breath. “Yours. Only yours, Kylo. They can look but only if you say so, no one else gets to touch.”_

They barely made it inside, not bothering with lights or pausing to make sure the kitchen door closed. She’d stumbled in the yard, heels sinking into the soil of the well-manicured lawn as he practically dragged her to the house.

He hadn’t even bothered putting the car into the garage, had barely taken the time to close the doors and press the button to lock them and set the alarm.

It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. There were no close neighbors, no one in their right mind would try approaching the veritable fortress he’d moved her into, and those not in their right mind…well, they wouldn’t be much more successful in any attempt to encroach on his territory.

_No one_ was willing to risk the wrath of Kylo Ren.

Except, apparently, for her.

The third time she stumbled he just picked her up and kept walking. Had her dress not been quite so tight she could have wrapped her legs around him, for some stability. As it was she just sort of hung off his body as he fought with the door, her fingers coiled in the dark hair at the base of his skull, unconsciously tugging as he nipped at her neck then shifted her weight to one arm so he could unlock the door. He kicked it closed behind them, heedless of whether it latched or bounced back again.

He set her back on her feet beside the kitchen island, one possessive arm still around her waist, fingers of his left hand splayed across her back, brushing at the skin bared by the low cut of the designer dress. She felt the smooth surface of his wedding ring on her spine, warm from his own body heat, yet the sensation still made her shiver. His right hand moved up to the back of her head, fingers digging into the updo that the stylist he hired had spent nearly two hours pinning into place. She felt some of the pins give way, gave a surprised yelp as he made a fist in the slightly loosened strands and jerked her head back, arching her spine and dragging her up onto her toes.

His hands were the only thing holding her up as her eyes rolled back for a moment before she focused on his face.

His voice was still calm and even, although deeper and more gravelly than usual, as he spoke. “Fucking tease, parading around all night, letting them think they could have you.” He jerked her impossibly closer, closing any remaining distance between them as he dipped his head, trailing kisses and bites down her neck, whispering against her skin. “ _Mine._ You’re _mine_ Rey, my fucking wife, and _I. DON’T. SHARE._ ”

She whimpered as he sucked a bruise at the base of her neck.

“Say it.”

She drew a shaky breath. “Yours. Only yours, Kylo. They can look but only if you say so, no one else gets to touch.”

He kissed the mark he’d just left on her skin and loosened his hold just slightly, moving up to kiss her lips, although ”kiss” seemed like the wrong word, an insufficient description for the way he laid claim to her with lips and teeth and tongue while she whimpered and tried to keep up.

She was panting when he straightened and spun her around. She turned her head, wanting to kiss him again, to _see_ him.

“No,” he ordered gruffly, one hand shoving her down, pinning her to the kitchen island by the shoulders. “No, you don’t fucking look at me,” he growled, removing his hand from her back and grabbing her right hand, stretching her arm and placing her hand at the opposite edge of the narrow kitchen island. She’d wondered, at first, why it was so narrow, until the first time he’d bent her over the surface. Without prompting she moved her left hand, gripping the far side of the counter tightly enough to make her knuckles whiten as her knees threatened to buckle. She turned her head, flushed face pressed against the cold surface of the granite. Or maybe it was marble. She couldn’t remember, but she didn’t really care enough to ask him again.

She nearly cried out at the loss of his body heat when he straightened and stepped back from her, bending down to grasp the hem of the black dress. She didn’t know which designer had provided this one. Like the counter, she didn’t really care. Kylo had dressed her for the evening, choosing the gown, the lingerie, the accessories, the shoes that kept damn near breaking her ankle.

Like an expensive doll. Dress her up and take her out to play, show her off to make a point, remind _them_ that she belonged to him. Then bring her home and strip her down, use her as he saw fit.

She’d be more upset about it if she hadn’t known what she was getting into.

If he wasn’t so good at giving her exactly what she needed.

She felt his hands sliding up, knuckles brushing along her calves as he lifted the fabric, paused at the back of her knees where the short slit that had made it almost possible for her to walk ended. His hands bunched into fists and she gasped and jolted a bit as he tore the fabric, ripping it nearly to her waist. He let her stand partway, still leaning over the island and holding on, as he traced the lines of the garters down to the tops of the stockings, pulled and plucked at the elastic so that it snapped back lightly against her thighs, then traced over to the barely there panties, the black lace hardly even enough fabric to call it a G-string. He leaned forward, breath trailing over her ear, against the side of her face. “Should have put these on last,” he said, gripping the fabric and pulling. She braced herself, knowing what was coming, managing not to yelp at the sting as the elastic cut into her before the lace gave way as he tore away this last layer of fabric.

“I actually liked those,” she pouted. She didn’t need to see his face to picture his expression, the smug grin when he was particularly proud of himself and her reaction had amused him. It was the closest thing to a real smile anyone ever got from him. Once she’d seen the hint of a dimple and it had haunted her dreams for weeks.

“Well you should have taken better care of them, then,” he said, pressing against her bare backside, the fabric of his pants scratchy against her delicate skin. She couldn’t quite form a response as her hips rolled back against the hardness pressing into her ass, her body begging even when she wouldn’t allow herself to form the words.

He pushed her back down against the countertop, leaning over her so the buttons of his shirt pressed into her back—he must have taken off his jacket already. He dropped a kiss against her spine, lips curving in the ghost of that smile he wouldn’t ever let her see. “I’ll buy you more, but you should know by now that I’m going to rip those off too.”

She huffed, mouth open to protest his wanton destruction of her wardrobe and the obscene waste of it, but then his hand came to rest between her legs, cupping his palm so that she could feel the heat of his skin but no friction, no _relief_ , and just the sensation of that almost-touch had her gasping and squirming for more.

Rey wondered if this was one of the nights he’d tease her, keeping her on the edge of bliss for hours, or if he’d give in to the frenzied lust that always smoldered between them, fan the flames and let it flare up until he took her hard and fast and they ended up in a tangled, sweaty heap on the kitchen floor because they couldn’t quite move, not yet.

She knew better than to ask, though. That would almost guarantee the first outcome, and she _needed_ the blazing inferno, not the banked coals.

He shifted his hand, fingers tracing maddeningly lightly along damp folds, teasing her entrance.

“Poor little wife, so desperate and needy, so wet.”

“For you,” she mumbled, shifting unconsciously. “Always only you,” she mumbled, grateful now for the cool granite/marble countertop against her skin. She moaned as he chuckled, a pleased masculine sound, and pressed a finger into her, pumping slowly in and out. “Please,” she said, words muffled by the stone surface where her face rested. “Please, please, more, Kylo, I can take it.” She was babbling, she knew it, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, not at the moment. Later, certainly, she would cringe and feel the rush of shame at her own desperation for a man who cared little for her as a person, only what she could do for him, only as a possession.

“Since you said please,” he half-whispered, doing as she asked, shifting until he was holding her hip with his free hand as the other worked her body, the wet, squelching sounds his fingers made sliding in and out of her echoing obscenely in the shadowy kitchen.

She was close, so close, and he let her push back against him, roll her hips against his hand, and she was nearly there, already practically sobbing his name, when he pulled away, leaving her bereft and slumped over the counter as her legs trembled.

“No! Kylo, _please_!”

“Shh, it’s alright,” he said softly, trailing one hand down her spine. She listened to the rustle of fabric, sighed in relief as his cufflinks and watch dropped carelessly somewhere beside her head, and the rasp of his zipper sounded.

Rey waited, tried to control her breathing as he positioned himself behind her, leaned over and pressed his lips to her shoulder blade and she wiggled back against him, pressing against his newly freed erection with a low moan. She felt the press of his teeth and what she was fairly certain was another smile against her skin when she gasped and lifted her hips higher, an invitation to take what she was offering. He grasped her hips, lifting her up just enough that she had to strain to keep contact with the floor—just enough that without the damnable heels her feet wouldn’t be able to reach.

She nearly screamed when he pushed inside her in a single, hard thrust, fingers already bruising her hips as he jerked her back to meet him. Her hold on the edge of the countertop changed from a desperate death grip to something more in line with supporting herself for better leverage as she shifted and pushed back against him, knowing if she could get just the right angle— _yes_.

She hissed out the word, over and over, a litany of _yes_ , with _please_ and _Kylo_ and _harder_ and _more_ peppered in as he set a punishing pace, their bodies meeting over and over again with an almost violent slap. Her knees knocked against the wood paneling of the kitchen island and that would probably bruise too but she didn’t care.

His rhythm faltered and one hand released the hold on her hips, snaking around the front of her body, but before he even made contact she screamed for him, vision going dark for a moment as her body pulsed and fluttered around him.

Vaguely, she felt that same hand move up, forearm supporting her now limp torso as his fingers wrapped gently around her neck, the caress a reminder of something far less gentle that had her eyes rolling back in her head again as he groaned her name against the back of her neck.

They managed not to end up in the floor—barely—but then Rey got tangled in what was left of her dress hanging off the front of her body and Kylo had to struggle to catch them both before he collapsed into the nearest chair, which was fortunately sturdy enough that the wood groaned in protest as he sat down heavily but it held.

Rey panted for breath and allowed herself to settle in his lap, let herself pretend—just for a moment—that he wanted to hold her as much as she wanted to be held, that maybe, just maybe, the fleeting press of lips to her temple was intentional and not simply accidental contact brought on by proximity and their individual efforts to draw in enough air.

The door had indeed bounced back open, and the night breeze across her cooling skin made Rey shiver. Kylo sighed, shifting slightly until he could see her face. “Can you walk yet?”

She thought about it, really considered, and shook her head. He made a sound that might have been a laugh. “Okay then,” he said, dragging another chair closer and helping her move into it before he stood and tugged his pants back up (how he’d even managed to get them into the chair without breaking bones she had no idea). He closed and locked the kitchen door, keying in the code to arm the door and window alarms before returning to her and tugging the remnants of her dress off, dropping it carelessly to the floor as he knelt in front of her. She couldn’t quite decipher his expression and when he realized she was looking at him he tilted his head, looking at her feet before making a noise that seemed…angry, she supposed. He lifted her right foot gently, thumb brushing over her ankle and she hissed out a breath at the sting in her heel.

His fingers, obscenely large though they might be, worked deftly at the strap holding the shoe on and he tugged it off gently, before raising her foot and squinting in the low light streaming through the windows, a combination of moonlight and the closest of the security lights positioned around the property. She winced as she realized there was blood on her heel, and there was a sharp sting at the ball of her foot suggesting there was a blister there as well.

“You should have said something,” he muttered, turning his attention to the other shoe and inspecting her left foot with the same level of scrutiny. It was in a similar state, and the sticky feeling at her toes suggested she’d been bleeding there as well.

“And done what? Taken them off and wandered around the party in my stockinged feet?”

He gave her a look that said he wanted to argue but wasn’t going to bother.

“We could have left early.”

“Could we though? Really?”

He sighed, brushing his thumb absently over the top of her left foot. “No, I suppose not. Snoke certainly wouldn’t have allowed it, and Hux would have used it against us somehow. You still should have said something. You’re my wife. It’s my _job_ to take care of you.”

She winced and hoped he didn’t see it.

Job. Responsibility. _Burden_.

“The price of beauty is pain. Isn’t that what they say?” She glanced away from him as he looked up at her, not wanting him to catch her looking at him. “Besides, the dress would have been too long in anything else and there was no time to have it hemmed,” she muttered, staring at the wall.

“Next time, you’re trying everything on at least a week ahead.”

She shrugged and gave a weak nod. There was no use arguing. This was her life now, a life she’d knowingly chosen when she took his hand that day. She glanced back at her husband as he looked down at her feet again, admiring the way the light glinted off his dark hair, some trick of shadows making it seem almost blue-black, a raven’s wing rather than the slightly warmer tone she knew it had in daylight. Not that she saw him much in daylight to know.

After a few moments of increasingly awkward silence, Rey shifted and leaned forward, placing her feet flat on the kitchen tile and trying to decide if her legs would hold her. She thought maybe and Kylo stood up without a word, holding out a hand. She hissed as the change in position and weight distribution made the nylon of her stockings rub at the blisters and raw spots. Kylo made a move, as if he would pick her up, and she pressed a hand to his chest. “We need to clean up first.”

He made a face. “It can wait.”

“It’s the _kitchen,_ Kylo. This is where the food lives, and we just had our bare asses on two chairs and who knows what fluids are all over the rest of the room. It’s gross!” He gave an almost chuckle and crossed to the sink, shaking his head as he opened the cabinet and retrieved a spray bottle and cleaning rag. She tried to take it from him, but he ignored her and pocketed his discarded watch and cufflinks before he wiped down the island and the two chairs, then retrieved her torn dress and the shoes and dropped them in the bin.

“Happy now?”

His tuxedo jacket was hanging off the back of a third chair, but it wasn’t on the floor and Kylo would likely be awake and down for breakfast long before the daytime staff arrived and had to deal with it, so she supposed she wouldn’t gripe too much about that. “It will do,” she grumbled. He turned away to grab two of the fancy bottled waters he preferred out of the refrigerator and handed them to her. “Hold these,” he said, before bending and lifting her into his arms and carrying her out of the kitchen.

She didn’t bother to protest, not anymore, and just looped her free arm loosely over his shoulders, the other holding the bottled waters and trying not to press the cold plastic to her skin as she shivered again in the cool stillness of their cavernous house. Maybe she should have put his jacket on instead of leaving it in the kitchen.

Rey let him take her upstairs, only mildly surprised when he turned left at the top of the stairs and carried her through the door to the master suite and into the attached bathroom.

His bathroom, really.

He deposited her near the toilet and took the waters from her before stepping out of the room.

She didn’t really care, it wasn’t like she had a shy bladder, but it was the one thing, the one bit of privacy she could still claim. She used the loo and limped over to the sink to wash her hands, laughing at the state of her makeup when she caught a glimpse of her reflection. Kylo opened the door and entered the room again as she dried her hands on a fluffy towel—gray today, apparently. He surprised her by stepping up close behind her and pressing his face against the back of her neck, taking a slow, deep inhale. “You smell good,” he mumbled against her skin.

“I smell like sweat and sex and you,” she said, turning around and letting her hands rest on his chest as his arms came to rest lightly around her waist. It was an affectionate night, apparently, and Rey decided she was going to enjoy it while she could.

“Like I said, you smell good.” She couldn’t hold back her laughter, blushing lightly when she snorted, and he gave her that almost-smile she had come to adore, because as far as Rey was concerned it was hers and hers alone.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Sometimes,” he said, so softly she wondered if she’d imagined it.

He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a first aid kit, then wet a cloth under the tap before helping her to the massive bathtub. She sat on a fluffy towel he folded and placed on the ledge surrounding the tub and then he knelt at her feet again, using the rag to remove the sticky spots of blood that were causing the stockings to stick to her. His movements were surprisingly gentle and something in her wanted to beg him to look at her, but she didn’t, knowing that even if he did, she would never see what she wanted to in his countenance.

He unhooked the garters and helped her out of the stockings, extra careful around her blisters, and she reached for the hooks of the garter belt and tugged it off. He turned, and she realized he was going to throw the stockings away just like her dress and shoes.

“Kylo, wait! Can they be saved?” He looked at her in confusion. “I mean, are there any holes or runs in them?”

He looked slowly from the stretchy fabric in his hand and back to Rey, blinking once. “I…ah, I didn’t notice any but I’m not sure.”

“Let me give them a wash then, see if they’re salvageable.” She glanced down, noting absently that she was right about her knees bruising. “Only, they’re hard to find sometimes, yeah?” she rushed to add, uncomfortable now and feeling like he’d judge her for wanting to save them or be somehow insulted when she could just spend his money on more. He didn’t need to know the impulse had only come upon her when he took such care with getting them off her with minimal pain. “The ones without the extra stuff in the top are, anyway,” she continued, “and those are less comfortable.” He shrugged and dropped them on the counter.

“Want a bath?” She started to answer and yawned, making him laugh just the slightest bit. “Was that a yes or a no?”

She blinked sleepily up at him. “Maybe in the morning? I’m pretty knackered.” He looked at her a moment before nodding.

“Bandages, then,” he insisted, grabbing antibiotic ointment and a handful of plasters for her feet.

Once she was, in Kylo’s opinion at least, properly bandaged, he helped her back down the hall to her room and she washed her face and removed the rest of the pins from her hair before she climbed into bed, only realizing as she drifted off that he’d probably meant to have her again and planned for her stay in his bed for the night to make that easier.

She squeezed her eyes shut angrily at the twinge of regret, pretending not to feel the prick of the tears threatening to fall.

Her life would be so much easier if she hadn’t committed the ultimate sin of falling in love with her husband.


	2. The Marked Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren watches his wife, and muses on the day they met.
> 
> _The dress. He had to get rid of the dress._
> 
> _As much as he’d enjoyed seeing her in it, reveled in the way the others had gazed, wanting, at the way the fabric hugged her body, he was beginning to hate the thing because it kept her from him._
> 
> _He’d fix that soon enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mainly Kylo's POV of the events in chapter one.
> 
> NOTE: Snoke makes a vague reference/insinuation regarding pregnancy, but no actual pregnancy talk.
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

She caught his eye and smiled before she did it, turning and angling her body towards the far side of the room from him.

Ah, so _that_ was her game for the night.

He tilted his head in acknowledgement and watched as she turned, taking small steps toward the mostly empty open bar. The skirt of her dress was too tight, the slit in back not high enough, to allow for her normal gait. He should know, he’d chosen it for her on purpose. Between the dress and the shoes, there was an extra sway to her hips as she moved, and he had the ridiculous thought that the curve of her peachy ass hugged and caressed by the black fabric should be immortalized in oils on canvas.

He knew he wasn’t the only man (hell, person, regardless of gender or orientation) in the room watching his wife move and smile and flirt with appreciation. Fortunately for them, he was in the mood to allow others to look at her, to look and watch and know they could _never_ touch, _never_ have, because she was his and his alone. She reached the bar and said something, putting her hands on the flat surface and leaning forward, straining up on her toes as the bartender laughed at whatever her comment had been.

Unconsciously, Kylo dug his finger beneath the bow tie and shirt collar which had suddenly conspired to restrict his breathing, and shifted a bit, making sure his jacket was covering other _areas_ where his clothes were suddenly tighter. Hux caught his eye, the man’s calculating gaze darting first to Rey and then back to Kylo.

Kylo cursed himself silently, angry he’d let down his guard enough to react—worse to allow Hux to _see_ it. Regardless of how bored he was without Rey on his arm muttering inappropriate comments under her breath, there was no excuse.

He couldn’t afford the risk, the _weakness_.

He straightened and turned away, eyes searching the room for someone—anyone—other than Hux or Rey to focus on, just for a moment. Unfortunately, the COO chose that moment to slither up beside him, hand heavy as it came to rest on Kylo’s shoulder. “Ah, Ren, and how is your young wife this evening?” Snoke didn’t wait for an answer, inclining his head to where Rey was accepting her drink from the bartender with a smile of thanks. “I take it still no joyous news, then,” the older man said, unable (or perhaps just unwilling) to keep the scorn from his tone as Rey turned and raised her drink slightly, ensuring she had her husband’s attention.

Kylo turned, deftly removing himself from Snoke’s grasp and returned his stare coldly. “When Rey and I have news we wish to share, I will be certain to tell her grandfather.” He nodded and added, “I’m certain you understand, sir, that _my young wife_ , clearly needs my company and guidance at the moment. If you would excuse me.”

Snoke’s eyes narrowed as Kylo turned and stepped away, walking at an angle that would allow him to meet Rey halfway across the room without fully turning his back on the other man. He pretended not to hear the muttered comments about insolent children forgetting their place, refused to allow the shiver threatening to creep up his spine. Not now. No weakness.

Rey watched him coming her way and paused, plucking the cherry from her glass by the stem and tilting her head back before she stuck her tongue out and lowered the treat to her mouth. By the time she sucked the fruit in past her lips, he was close enough to hear the low moan and see that her eyes were open just the slightest bit, narrowed slits through which she watched him approach. A slow smile curled her lips and the sound of shattering glass echoed as the portly man standing at a nearby table dropped his glass of champagne thanks to her little display.

Rey stepped into Kylo, hands sliding up his chest and shoulders before trailing back down to rest on his arms. He saw her glance past him—doubtless checking to ensure Snoke was watching—before she pouted up at him and whined about wanting to go home. He slid an arm around her waist and squeezed lightly, just once, before he wrapped his free hand around her upper arm and leaned down, lips against her ear.

He had a reputation for being possessive and quick to anger. To anyone else it would appear he was furiously chastising her for making a scene. What he actually said was, “Nicely done, but if you try that again I will turn you over my knee on the middle of the dance floor rather than waiting until we can be _alone_.”

She gasped and stared up at him, swallowing hard as a tremor ran through her. He knew her, knew her tells. Her reaction might look like fear and embarrassment, but it was something far more interesting to him. She nodded slowly up at him as he glanced at his watch and calculated how much longer they had before he could get away with taking her home for the night.

At least an hour.

Fuck.

He really might turn her over his knee or bend her over the bar if she didn’t stop pushing his buttons.

He wanted a drink of his own, but he’d decided to give his personal staff the night off and drive them himself. He may have done a lot of stupid things in his life but drinking before driving his wife home wasn’t going to be one of them.

Besides, he’d need to be in full control of his senses for what he had planned for her later.

She sipped at her drink and made a face at the burn of the alcohol as they watched the party guests. Rey may have been the one person in the world who hated First Order parties more than he did, although he had always suspected Hux was a close second in that respect.

Kylo managed to get them into the car and home safely despite the higher-than-recommended speed and the fact that Rey had muttered a sleepy wish that they could fit into the back seat before she drifted off, sleeping most of the way home.

He’d planned to take his time, maybe tie her to his bed and keep her desperate and begging until sunrise—after an appropriate punishment, of course. Then she shifted in her sleep, made a whimpering sound, and whispered his name. Her eyes fluttered open a few moments later and she looked at him like she was starved, and he was her favorite dessert. She straightened in her seat, left hand coming to rest on his thigh, fingers squeezing, and he took the turn into the driveway a bit too fast, the car nearly sideways as loose gravel sprayed from under the tires.

He covered her hand with one of his own, pressing down and relishing in the feel of her engagement ring—the formal one she only wore when she had to dress up—as it threatened to slice into his palm.

“ _Rey._ ”

It was enough of a warning. Her fingers uncurled and he released her hand with more reluctance than he could dare to express. The gates swung shut behind them and he didn’t bother with the garage, out of the car and at her door before she even got her seatbelt off. He practically lifted her out of the car, half-dragging her across the yard because a straight line to the kitchen door was the fastest way inside and even in his current state he couldn’t bring himself to tug her into the grass and take her when she was already shivering in the cool night air.

A little voice inside argued that he could keep her warm, and it wouldn’t be the first (nor the seventh) time in the grassy yard but no, inside…he needed to get her inside the house.

Rey cursed and jerked her right leg, tugging the heel of her shoe out of the ground of the well-manicured lawn. She made it three steps before it happened again, to the other shoe. The third time he suspected her ankle rolled and his hold on her was the only thing that kept her from falling.

She’d tripped at the party a time or two as well.

The damn shoes were going in the garbage, possibly in pieces if she were actually injured.

He picked her up, arms around her waist, and kept walking, heedless of her feet and knees bouncing off him as Rey held on desperately. Damn dress was too tight for her to bend her knees so she couldn’t wrap her legs around his waist. He almost paused to shift his hold, but the door was only a few feet away by then. By some miracle he got the door unlocked and flung it open, carried her in and kicked it shut behind them. It sounded like it bounced back, the latch failing to catch, but he didn’t really care so much if the door was open or closed.

He’d entertained thoughts of pinning her against the wall, but he’d have to take the time to get her out of the dress first, and the way the dim light reflected off the black granite top of the kitchen island brought back the mental image of her leaning over the bar at the party.

That…he wanted that.

He set her on her feet by the freestanding counter, hands flexing, ready to steady her if she stumbled. She didn’t and he relaxed only a fraction before doing what he’d wanted since the stylist finished pinning her hair into place that afternoon.

He kept his left arm on her, settled around her waist and his hand on her back, but his right hand snaked into her hair, fingers working into the deceptively complicated topknot before he made a fist and pulled. She yelped but after two years he knew it wasn’t a pain sound as she stretched up on her toes, willingly letting him use the hold in her hair to arch her back, expose the line of her neck. His own lips parted, and his cock twitched as her eyes rolled back in her head, lashes fluttering while she tried to focus her vision.

He swallowed hard, fought to keep his voice even, calm, as he spoke. “Fucking tease, parading around all night, letting them think they could have you.” He pulled her closer, tucked tight against his body, and lowered his head, trailing kisses and bites down her neck, whispering—practically growling—against her skin, “ _Mine_. You’re _mine_ Rey, my fucking wife, and _I_. _DON’T_. _SHARE_.”

He gave into the desire, the _need,_ to mark her, brand her as his own, sucking a bruise on her delicate skin while she leaned into it, pulling against his hold in her hair to give him even better access.

“Say it.”

He suppressed his own shudder as she did as he ordered, babbling that he was the only one who could touch her. Others could look if he allowed it, but she belonged to him alone.

He kissed her, bruising and almost desperate, before spinning her to face the counter. She twisted, trying to turn back and look at him even facing the opposite way, and he pressed a hand between her shoulder blades. “No,” he said, more harshly than he wished. “No, you don’t fucking look at me.” He couldn’t let her look, couldn’t let her _see_ what she did to him. He pretended not to see the momentary flash of hurt in her eyes and distracted himself by grabbing one of her hands, stretching her arm across to hold the opposite side of the narrow island countertop, knowing she’d move the other on her own.

He didn’t praise her, didn’t tell her she was a good girl, but that didn’t stop him from thinking it as she trembled for him, the side of her face pressed to the granite while her breath left a momentary cloud of moisture on the dark surface.

The dress. He had to get rid of the dress.

As much as he’d enjoyed seeing her in it, reveled in the way the others had gazed, wanting, at the way the fabric hugged her body, he was beginning to hate the thing because it kept her from him.

He’d fix that soon enough.

She didn’t protest when he tore the dress nearly to the edge of fabric where the back dipped low at her waist, nor when he traced the stockings and snapped the garters against her skin.

She pouted a bit at the loss of the underwear when he shredded the lace and ripped it from her body, but then she _had_ put the garter belt on top, knowing exactly what he would do.

When he touched her, felt how wet she was, how she already pulsed and grasped and fluttered around his fingers, any remaining thought of teasing or drawing things out fled, replaced by an almost crazed desperation to have her right that moment.

Later. He could take his time later.

He winced every time her knees smacked against the wood paneling of the island as he drove forward into her, but she didn’t protest, never uttered her safe word, needing it as badly as he did.

He knew she would never admit she liked the bruises he left on her, probably more than he liked seeing the proof on her skin that she belonged to him, at least for the moment.

After, he nearly fell into the nearest chair, somehow managing to keep Rey from toppling to the floor despite the fact that she’d gone completely limp when she came, and his own pants were tangled around his thighs. He only realized afterwards that she was tangled in the tattered remnants of the designer original he’d shredded to get to her.

He remembered the door bouncing back open when she shivered in his lap and he settled her in another chair, angry with himself for losing control so badly that she suffered for it, huddled and cold in the simple wooden chair.

He’d make it up to her, somehow.

Maybe.

First things first, he needed to close the door, block the increasingly forceful night breeze from her sweat dampened skin.

He’d already been determined to toss the shoes, and then he saw her feet, the blisters and blood and raw skin, and no matter how irrational, he wanted to strangle the designer for such carelessness. He ignored the wince and mutinous glare she sent his way when he said it was his job to take care of her.

Oh, she didn’t like that at all, but it was best if she thought he believed his own lies.

A _job._ Right. Privilege, maybe.

He carried her upstairs, knowing it was pushing his own physical limits but not caring and perhaps glad for the little bit of punishment. She seemed startled when he bypassed her room and kept going to the master suite, but he pretended not to notice.

No need to let her know he hadn’t actually thought through his actions anymore than usual. No need for her to realize he often acted on impulse and instinct alone where she was concerned…far more often than was wise.

He cleaned her feet, internally cringing at every tiny tremor in her, every quick hiss of breath, and helped her remove the final bits of clothing. When she turned down a bath, he looked at her— _really_ looked for the first time since they’d left the party—and saw just how exhausted she was.

His impulse had been to tuck her into his bed, but she needed to sleep. He knew better than to believe he’d let her if she were close enough for touching.

He didn’t sleep, couldn’t really, not for years before he’d ever met her. Instead he waited, gave her time to drift off, before padding silently back to her room where leaned in the open doorway. She kept the door open, the curtains parted, because she couldn’t sleep in total darkness. It worked out well for the nights her husband hovered in the shadows, watching her sleep as the moonlight traced delicately over her features.

When they were home alone and she was asleep, he could look his fill without fear, because in those precious hours, they were safe. Or as safe as they _could_ be, anyway.

It was why he’d been so careful with their home, ensuring every possible security measure was in place, and had the house, outbuildings, cars, and grounds randomly swept for microphones and cameras.

She was still in there, the Rey he met just over two years prior, beneath the pretense of vapid, spoiled housewife she’d been forced to adopt when he and Hux had dragged her into the world her parents had likely died to protect her from. She was bright, determined, and understood immediately that playing the role expected would keep them all safer, maybe even cause her grandfather and his ‘friends’ to underestimate her. So far it had worked.

At least Kylo thought it had.

Hux knew the truth, but he had his own agenda and so far, had played along, pretending to believe she was dim and vain and pampered like some expensive pet, with no mind or will of her own. Her grandfather and his cronies believed it simply because she was a woman and therefore must be predisposed to and thankful for such a life. Hux pretended with them, and Kylo didn’t question it too deeply, for fear that the other man would drop all pretense and put Rey in the crosshairs.

As he often did, Kylo thought about the moment he first saw her. Hux had been the first to approach, better with words and manners, and (as far as Kylo was concerned) decent cannon fodder if needed. She’d fought, _Maker,_ how she’d fought, when they arrived to collect her. That tiny scrap of a woman nearly ten years his junior, underweight and exhausted, and the pair of them better trained and physically much larger, but she’d nearly gotten away twice, bloodied Hux’s lip and knocked the ginger man flat on his pompous ass.

It wasn’t even just that they had been trying desperately not to harm her (they hadn’t been, really, but it was clear from the beginning that they would have to restrain her to even get her to listen to why they were there). Once Kylo managed to get a hold on her, forcing his voice to remain as even as possible—almost mechanical—and began explaining why they were there, what they (or more specifically, her paternal grandfather) wanted with her, she’d calmed, studying him skeptically with her head at what had to be an uncomfortable angle until he loosened his hold and she’d been able to turn, facing him but still keeping Hux within view.

When she began negotiating terms as if she had all the power, Hux narrowed his eyes like she’d suddenly done something interesting, and Kylo was simply struck by the sudden realization that she might be his salvation, had there been anything left to save.

He watched her sleep, thinking about the determined line of her jaw that first day, the fire in her eyes as she moved from fighting with feet and fists to words, while Hux dabbed at his split lip and grazed hands with a silk handkerchief and Kylo felt a strange sense of satisfaction that she’d gotten a few good hits in on him as well. He would have his own bruises, and for some reason he was inordinately pleased by the fact that she’d marked him.

Even married for two years, she had no idea the mark she’d left on his soul, the claim she’d laid on him the moment he saw her, and he would keep it that way, for both their sakes.

The knowledge that her grandfather and his cronies had _known_ —for years if not all along—exactly where she was, the conditions under which she lived, but never bothered to retrieve her until it suited their purposes, had been a turning point for Kylo Ren, awakening some ghost of the man he once could have been.

And the day she’d made her choice, chosen him over Hux to be her husband, that had been the day he began to plan. Kylo harbored no illusions that he’d make it out alive—he’d accepted that inevitability long before he knew Rey existed—but he was going to be damned sure his wife did.


	3. The Troublesome Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding was small, practically an elopement. 
> 
> _“I…tooktomorrowoff,” he added in a rush, and had it been anyone else she would have sworn he was blushing. “I thought…well I can’t really get away more than a day or two right now, but we can make a long weekend of it.”_
> 
> _He hadn’t had to do that. Why would he—oh! They’d talked about it of course, agreed to take things slowly and he had barely touched her so far, but it_ was _their wedding night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback chapter, Rey's POV.
> 
> A couple new tags and characters added, and since the need for an heir is a plot point, mentions of/talk around pregnancy will come up in this and future chapters. 
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

Their wedding was a small affair, private, just the pair of them with Hux and an intern from Kylo’s office standing as witnesses, and a judge who kept shooting odd looks at Kylo throughout the time it took to say the necessary words and sign the paperwork. It was a Thursday evening. Hux and Kylo had gone to the office early and taken a half-day’s leave to ‘attend to the troublesome matter’ of the wedding.

Her grandfather, Snoke, and Pryde all seemed irritated and disgusted by the very idea, and yet they had been insistent that she pick a husband, giving her six weeks to choose between Hux and Kylo.

It made little to no sense.

Not that anything about her life _had_ since the day the pair of them had shown up as she finished work one night and informed her that she was an heiress and her grandfather wanted to meet her.

If she hadn’t been so busy trying to knock them senseless, she would have laughed in both their faces.

She shook her head. She needed to focus on the most recent absurd change unfolding, not the one that started the odd series of whip-crack ricocheting events leading her to the moment she had reached. The moment where she was repeating words she barely heard and tying herself to a man she barely knew—for life _._

She looked up at Kylo, repeating words and phrases and trying to pretend she didn’t wish things were different—that this was _real_.

Rey thought she caught a real smile, a nice one with just a hint of mischief, from Judge Calrissian when he pronounced them man and wife, chuckling as he’d ordered her _husband_ to “get on with it and kiss the girl already.”

Kylo rolled his eyes and muttered something about having known better before leaning down for a perfunctory press of lips and they both jumped, startled, at a flash of light. “Send me that, will you,” the judge said to the intern—Rey thought his name was Finn—as he lowered the phone and began typing.

Oh, right.

Photographic evidence. Finn had been tasked with taking pictures for her grandfather, Sheev Palpatine, (and what a ridiculous name that was—although her new husband’s wasn’t much better—Kylo Ren…what did they do, just make them up?) to prove they’d actually gone through with it. At least that was what Kylo and Hux had told her. The old men in charge at First Order didn’t particularly care for Rey’s input, and considering the fact that they all made her skin crawl, she had decided she was content to let Kylo be the messenger between them.

The mobile flashed a few more times in the dim room as Kylo and the judge signed, then Hux and Finn took their turns as she shifted about in the corner, nervous and distracted enough that the judge didn’t even point out she should sign before the witnesses (er, she thought so anyway…she thought the rules varied from place to place and she’d never gotten married before—never really expected to marry at all). When she still didn’t step forward, all four men turned and looked expectantly at Rey, waiting for her in relative silence. The judge gave her another of those smiles that seemed like he was holding back some secret.

She blinked down at the paper on the small table in front of her. She was supposed to sign, but which name? Until only months ago she’d been Rey Johnson, no middle name, at least legally. According to her grandfather and his…friends…her ‘ _real’_ name was Valerie Desiree Constance…something with a K…Palpatine. She kept forgetting the K-one, mostly because no one would pronounce it properly, almost as if they hadn’t meant to let it slip and didn’t want her to know. Her mother’s family name—or at least a name from someone in her mother’s family, maybe. She thought she’d pieced that much together from the mutterings of her grandfather and his cohorts, Mr. Snoke and Mr. Pryde.

She took a slow breath, hand (fine, entire body) trembling as she tried to maintain her hold on the very nice—and very expensive, she was certain—pen Kylo had pulled from his pocket and handed to her. She felt a hand on her back and jumped, so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t even realized he’d moved up behind her again.

He angled her hand so that the engraving on the pen caught the light. _Rey Johnson Palpatine._ “That one,” he said softly, and she nodded, grateful for his presence at her back. Right. Her _current_ legal name, at least until she decided to take his name.

_If._ Not until. _If_ she took his name.

Which she had no plans to do.

Really, all things considered, he should take _her_ name, she supposed. Or maybe they should just make up a new one altogether. Ren sounded more like a title than a name, anyway.

She shook her head, as if the motion would physically clear the thoughts from her mind.

He kept his hand splayed on her back and she signed, hoping it was okay that her name kind of curved upward in the middle, pulling away from the faint horizontal line. Just before the judge took the paper back, she realized something looked strange about her husband’s signature. It was all fancy swirls and loops, almost a work of art, but the thing that caught her attention was the fact that it almost looked as if he’d reversed his first and last name, and forgotten to loop the ‘y.’ Sloppy, really, for Kylo. She knew that with absolute certainty, even after only having known him a handful of months, but maybe the pen had skipped.

She forgot her momentary confusion quickly enough, as he ushered her out of the room and through the small courthouse.

They had traveled _hours_ to reach some tiny, picturesque town just to get married (after hours) in an empty courthouse and then…leave again.

Rey really hoped they didn’t travel all the way back home. It would be the middle of the night before they got home, and she wasn’t sure she could sit for that long again, anyway.

Finn had offered what seemed like genuine congratulations and excused himself, saying something about meeting a friend for dinner the next town (or possibly county, she wasn’t clear on that) over.

Hux had already climbed into the back of a sedan and been chauffeured off. His assistant/driver, Mr. Mitaka, had been waiting outside in the cold for the hour or so it took for Rey and Kylo to get married.

The judge had taken her hand in one of his and affectionately patted it with the other as he congratulated her, then clapped Kylo on the shoulder before returning to his office.

She had the feeling they knew one another, and her husband wasn’t entirely happy about it. So why travel so far just to have him officiate?

She was distracted from her thoughts as Kylo gently cupped her elbow. “You okay?”

She looked up at him as night fell around them, clear but cold, and almost convinced herself she saw genuine concern in his eyes. She nodded and forced a strained smile. “Fine, just…big day.”

His mouth twitched and for just a moment she thought he was going to smile and she felt a flutter of hope. Then he nodded toward his car—well, _their_ car now, she supposed. “Shall we?” he asked, gentle pressure at her elbow urging her in the general direction of the vehicle. She nodded again and let him lead her over and open the door for her, waiting until she pulled her feet in and settled in the passenger seat before he closed her door firmly and rounded to the driver’s side.

Rey shivered as his long coat fluttered around him with each step, envious of the heavy woolen material. Her own black jacket was too lightweight for the time of year, and barely reached past her waist. She was dressed simply in a light blue sleeveless sheath dress (also entirely seasonally inappropriate) and simple black pumps. He’d worn the same suit he’d put on for work that morning, although he had changed the tie to one a single shade darker than her dress.

She shivered again as he opened the door and folded himself into the driver’s seat, wondering what had taken him so long. She didn’t have to keep wondering as he leaned over and tucked the coat—his coat—around her then started the engine. He fiddled with the controls for the heater and glanced at her, seeming irritated as she shivered beneath the dark fabric. “It’ll take a few minutes to warm up.” She nodded as he turned his attention to backing out of the narrow parking space. “Sorry, I should have gotten you a better coat before we left.”

She blinked at him, surprised at the realization that he was irritated with his own lack of forethought and consideration. For _her._

Rey shook her head. Of _course_ Kylo was irritated with himself. He was a perfectionist and took care of his things. She supposed she was one of those now. A possession.

“Did you turn on the seat warmers?” he asked, eyes never leaving the road in front of them.

She gasped and fiddled for the switches.

“Thanks,” she said softly, intently watching his left hand guiding the steering wheel while his right rested lazily on the gear shift.

Kylo chuckled and his eyes darted to her for a split second before returning to the road. “You usually forget,” he said, voice surprisingly soft as if he didn’t want to disturb the hush of the car.

There weren’t many street lights or buildings once they left the town limits (which took all of five minutes) but every time they did pass a light source it glinted off the ring on his left hand, the one she’d placed there less than an hour prior. She felt the weight of its mate on her own hand and pulled it out from under his coat, staring down in silence. It wasn’t heavy, exactly, nor was it too tight, yet the feel of the metal on her skin was foreign. It was wider than the band on the simple (well, simple in Kylo’s opinion) everyday engagement ring she had agreed to after several long discussions and careful negotiations between them.

Kylo shifted in his seat, and at first she believed he was just changing gears, but after the third time at steady speed on the straight, flat stretch of road, she began to suspect it was discomfort. Did her husband of…one hour and thirty-seven minutes have a nervous tic? That seemed out of character. She liked him the better for it.

He cleared his throat, eyes locked on the road. “I uh…I thought we could stop about halfway. There’s a place…I, well I thought you might like it. An inn, or I guess a bed and breakfast, really, on a lake.”

He paused but Rey had the sense he wasn’t quite finished, so she waited patiently, trying not to look directly at him because he already seemed uncomfortable.

“I…tooktomorrowoff,” he added in a rush, and had it been anyone else she would have sworn he was blushing. “I thought…well I can’t really get away more than a day or two right now, but we can make a long weekend of it.”

He hadn’t had to do that. Why would he— _oh_! They’d talked about it of course, agreed to take things slowly and he had barely touched her so far, but it _was_ their wedding night.

She swallowed. “That…it sounds lovely, Kylo,” she said, covering his right hand with her left for a moment, hoping he didn’t notice how her fingers trembled.

He visibly relaxed and glanced at her once more. She pulled her hand back and stared out into the night.

It wasn’t that she _didn’t_ want to, and they were expected to “produce an heir” (her grandfather’s actual phrasing) but…she wasn’t completely innocent but he was a large man and, well, she assumed he was also a _large man._ She was frightened, nervous, enough so that it dampened any interest or excitement she might have felt.

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing Rey knew, the car was parked in front of a large old Victorian and Kylo was standing beside her, a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Her still mostly asleep brain swore he said, “Rey? Come on sweetheart, we’re here.” She blinked a few times and allowed him to help her out of the car, dimly noting he had a duffel bag and rolling suitcase as well.

His coat fell into her lap as she sat up and she shivered at the night air. Kylo frowned and lifted it up, holding it for her with an expectant look. Rey climbed out of the car and shrugged before she turned, slipping her arms in, laughing as the sleeves fell well past her hands. His lips twitched as if he might smile as well and she realized she desperately wanted to see the smile the movement hinted was in there somewhere.

He closed the door with a firm thud, and she heard the faint beep as he locked the car and led her to the wraparound porch. He raised a fist to knock but the door swung silently open before he did it, revealing a tiny older woman with thick, round glasses.

“Took you long enough,” the woman muttered, stepping back and pulling her housecoat more tightly around her. Kylo shook his head and led Rey inside, pulling the wheeled suitcase behind him and waiting as the woman closed the door before he spoke.

“Thank you, for waiting,” Kylo said, surprising Rey with the genuine appreciation in his tone.

The woman just studied him carefully before turning to Rey. “Ah, yes, I see it now,” she said, leaving Rey confused. Then she turned her attention back to Kylo. “She’s too good for you,” the woman said, leaving Rey even more bewildered.

“I’m aware,” Kylo said, voice cold and flat as he straightened to his full height and squared his hunched shoulders.

Rey opened her mouth to protest but the woman spoke again before she had the chance. “I know you boy, who you really are behind the mask you present to the world.” A look of irritation crossed Kylo’s face, and Rey saw the woman’s little smile when it happened. “Your room’s waiting,” the woman continued, “as requested. And there are no other guests this weekend, so you’ll have the house and grounds to yourselves. I’ll be here with breakfast at seven, dinner at five. You’re on your own for lunch.” Kylo nodded and headed for the staircase, tugging lightly on Rey’s hand, then gesturing for her to go up first. She looked back once, and the woman was just watching them in silence.

Rey was trembling by the time Kylo ushered her through an open door at the end of a short hallway, and there was a sort of roaring sound ringing in her ears.

Kylo dropped the leather duffel on a bench at the foot of a high bed with a mound of pillows and a floral quilted bedspread. “That one’s yours,” he said, head tilted down at the bag. Rey sucked in a quick breath and nodded, reaching for the zipper with trembling fingers and then staring in shock at the contents.

She wasn’t certain what she’d expected, maybe some sort of silky, lace-trimmed lingerie and dangerously spiked heels, but she felt a flood of relief and confusion (and maybe some regret, but she wasn’t going to examine that too closely) when she found only her own neatly folded leggings, t-shirts, and jumpers, cotton underthings, and her battered old trainers.

She looked at Kylo, certain the confusion was plain on her face. He ran a hand through his hair and looked away from her. “I uh, I packed it for you yesterday. Sorry, I wouldn’t have gone into your room, but I was hoping it would be a surprise, preferably a good one.”

Her mouth opened in a small o of surprise. “I…it was— _is._ A good one. I just…” she trailed off and shrugged looking away and hugging herself.

“What?”

“What?” she parroted back.

“You just what?”

“I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe you—well technically it’s our wedding night…”

She watched as understanding dawned on him. “Is that why you’ve seemed half-terrified the last few hours?”

She didn’t answer but he didn’t seem to expect her to.

“Rey, we talked about this. I know we agreed to your grandfather’s terms, but we have time, and you and I both agreed that _you_ would set the pace. I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t want.” He took a single step closer, hand tearing through his hair again. “I’m not a good man, Rey, and I’m guilty of a lot of things, but _that_ isn’t one of them.”

She gasped and jerked as if he’d struck her. “That’s not—I didn’t mean that! I just…fuck Kylo I don’t _know_ what the bloody hell I mean…”

He almost smiled at her then, stepping forward and pressing his lips to her forehead before grabbing the handle of the suitcase and pulling it to the doorway. “Go to sleep, Rey. I’ll be across the hall if you need anything.”

She door clicked shut softly behind him and she sank onto the bench beside the bag of her clothing.

_Don’t go._

She heard the door across the hall open and the click shut again after a moment.

_Don’t leave me._

She didn’t say it, couldn’t let herself form the words out loud, but they were there, bubbling just under the surface.

She bit her lip and pressed a fist against her mouth, as if she could physically hold back the hysterical sob that was just suddenly there, fighting to escape her as a wave of panic rushed over her.

She practically ran to the door, flinging it open and panting, gasping and sucking in great lungfuls of air as she leaned forward into the hallway.

The door in front of her swung open as she tried desperately to capture enough oxygen. Kylo was so tall. Taller than usual. Why was he so very tall? It was only as he knelt in front of her that she realized she was on the floor, the old hardwood bruising her knees. She focused on that, the ache in her knees, the smooth feel of the boards under her palms. The roaring sound in her ears was fading, and she heard Kylo’s voice, calm and deep and even. Soothing. She could smell the peculiar wax and lemon scent of whatever had been used to clean the floor. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, head resting gently against his knee as he shifted to sit flat on the floor.

“You left me,” she said, voice small. Weak, she sounded weak. “You left me and you closed the door.”

He hissed out a breath. “Gods Rey, I’m sorry, I didn’t think…I just forgot.” She nodded lightly, the top of her head brushing against his knee. “Maz said there’s no one else here, and she’s gone for the night,” he continued. “We can leave all the doors open, if you want.” His hand rested lightly on the back of her head, stroking her hair almost absently. “Tell me what you need, Rey.”

She would never be sure exactly where the words came from, what made her say it, but she lifted her head and sat up slowly, shifting around until she was sitting facing him, each leaning against opposite walls, and said “Kiss me.”

“I—” he looked at her, and for once she could read his expression. Unfortunately, all she saw there was doubt.

“I’m sorry, never mind, ignore me, Kylo. It was a stupid thing to say.”

She started to get up, intent on returning to her room and going to bed, but he leaned forward and grabbed her wrist. “Rey, is that really what you want me to do right now?”

She looked up at him then glanced away before nodding once. “Yes.”

“Come here.”

His voice remained soft, but there was something firm, steely in his tone. She looked back at him and there was no trace of doubt remaining as he tugged gently on her wrist. She let him pull her forward, until she was practically in his lap.

She experienced it in pieces, flashes of sensation.

The smell of his cologne, faded now at the end of the day but still a pleasant scent, one that had already become comforting in its familiarity.

The heat of his skin, the weight of touch as one of his hands cupped her face.

The tickle of neat facial hair as he pulled her oh-so-close and leaned in.

She whimpered when his lips met hers, innocent and almost chaste—at first. She let him tilt her head at an angle as he deepened the kiss, trembled in his hold as his tongue traced the seam of her lips and she opened, obedient and pliant.

She didn’t even realize at first that she had gone from “practically in his lap” to “in his lap with her legs locked around him,” rocking against him. A _large man_ , indeed.

Both of his hands moved down, grasping her hips and helping her move and he thrust his hips up against her, still kissing her, and starbursts flickered behind her closed eyelids. He moved suddenly, shifting position, and she suddenly found herself on her back on the antique wood flooring as her husband hovered over her, something desperate in his eyes.

“Tell me I can touch you,” he said, and it was more a plea than an order. His head dropped, forehead pressing against her neck as whispered against her skin. “Please, Rey, let me touch you, make you feel good.”

Begging. Kylo Ren was begging. She nodded before realizing he couldn’t possibly see it from this angle. “Yes, Kylo, yes, you can touch me, please just touch me.”

The skirt of her dress was already bunched around her thighs and he shoved it up further. “Hold that,” he said, grabbing one of her hands and pressing it against the fabric he’d moved up around her waist. He settled on the floor, situating himself between her spread thighs, and stared at the ivory satin covering her. Something in his face changed and he practically threw himself backwards, away from her, with a muffled curse.

“Kylo?”

“Not here, not like this, on the floor,” he said, moving to his knees and then standing before he leaned down to help her up and led her back into her room. She sat on the edge of the unusually high bed, feet dangling above the floor, and he stared at her, solemn and serious.

“I don’t…Rey, I got carried away, lost control and I’m sorry for that. You deserve better.” She opened her mouth to protest but the words just wouldn’t come. He leaned forward and kissed her again, soft and gentle, the way he’d started only minutes ago, and she whined and clutched at the lapels of the jacket he still hadn’t removed as she kissed him back and squirmed, her body trying to get closer to him and nearly falling off the bed for her trouble. He laughed against her mouth, and she felt the smile he wouldn’t let her see as he helped her shift back to the middle of the mattress. He followed her, and the bed, too big only moments ago, was suddenly barely enough to hold them both. She felt her breath quicken as he tugged off his jacket and removed his tie. She shifted restlessly as he removed his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves.

“Not going to fuck you tonight,” he muttered as he leaned over her again. “Not ready for that.” He punctuated the words with another kiss, his hands tugging her dress back up to her waist again before grasping the satin panties and tugging them down her legs. He tossed them carelessly to the floor and leaned back in, mouth coming to rest much lower now, and her fingers wound into his hair at the first, skilled stroke of his tongue. He licked and kissed and sucked, thoroughly exploring every bit of her, and she rolled her hips, chasing after him with gasps and pants and breathy cries, and screamed for him as she came—twice—before she had to shove him away. He helped her out of her remaining clothing and she stared at him, blinking in confusion when she realized he was holding one of the oversized cotton t-shirts she usually slept in.

“What about you?”

He didn’t answer at first, tugging the shirt over her arms and head and down her body.

“Go to sleep, Rey,” he said, and this time he _was_ giving her an order. He kissed her once more, and she realized she could taste the faintest trace of herself on his mouth, and she shivered.

“Stay with me until I fall asleep?” she asked, and he nodded, stretching out beside her and draping one arm over her waist.


	4. The Part Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo recalls things and broods while Rey sleeps, and they spend the day after their wedding wandering the house and grounds around the B&B.
> 
> _He met her gaze, held her eyes for a moment, and then, when he was certain he had her full attention, boldly raked his eyes down her body, gaze tracing all the way to her toes before moving back up. Her eyes were just a hair wider, lips parted the tiniest bit, and he crossed his own arms and leaned back against the wall again as she stared at him. He flexed an arm, saw her gaze darting to follow the motion. “Like what you see, then?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the exposition. Kylo broods a lot...he also flashes back to a few days after meeting Rey, so it's a flashback scene within a larger flashback chapter. Hopefully it's not too terribly confusing. 
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

He saw the end from the very beginning, just not the time or distance between the two, but he was weak, and he wanted the part between for however long he could have it. That was usually his problem, really, this need for _having_ , the need to _know_. The need to, in the end, be able to look in the mirror, gaze at the damage and disaster wrought and say to himself “I told you so.”

He knew how it would end, and yet he found himself a willing party to the outdated and ridiculous plan of Palpatine’s, the order Snoke relayed with an emotionless voice and a predatory gleam in his eye. The man (all three of them really, Palpatine, Snoke, and Pryde) talked over and around Rey as if she weren’t in the room, just flatly saying “You have six weeks, then one of you is to wed her and see to it that she produce a _suitable_ heir within five years.”

Rey gasped, and Kylo found himself pressing a hand to her back. Hux was on her other side, a warning hand on her elbow. She didn’t speak, didn’t protest, but he knew she wanted to, suspected the trembling was barely suppressed outrage rather than fear. They’d prepared her for this. It had been almost painfully obvious what the old men in charge had intended.

Rey was the last member of the Palpatine dynasty—already confirmed via DNA blood test—an old family that while not actual royalty may as well be, and the old man had built a corporate empire that made him nearly untouchable, no matter how foul (and illegal) his less-savory business activities.

Hux and Kylo were both descended from influential families as well, regardless of the fact that neither of them was particularly happy about it. Both from families with generations of wealth and power behind them, and the pair of them had been set up as rivals and groomed to one day take over First Order.

As far as Snoke and Palpatine were concerned, Rey was a brood mare, just a means to an end to procure an heir they could shape and mold from childhood. Pryde he still wasn’t sure about. The chairman of the board was the only one of the three married, and he seemed to at least respect his wife. He’d also kept his children out of the company.

But Kylo would never mistake the man for an ally.

Snoke sneered and waved a hand, attention already turning to the contracts on the table. “Well, what are you waiting for? Don’t dally, go and…woo her.”

And just like that, all three of them had been summarily dismissed.

Kylo watched her sleep, remembering how impressed Hux had been over the fact that Rey managed to contain herself until they were safely out of the building. He’d felt his own rush of pride at the vitriol spewing from her lips as soon as they had been in a relatively safe location, just the three of them.

“Is it really such a bad thing?” Hux asked her lazily, pretending to be more interested in the inspection of his own cuticles than her reaction, but Kylo knew the other man was watching her from an angle. She quieted and turned that look on him, the one she’d had when she started negotiating her terms for going with them to meet ‘this supposed long lost relative’ they’d told her about only days prior.

She crossed her arms lightly, holding her elbows, and studied them each in turn. Hux straightened and adjusted his sleeves before folding his hands behind his back and returning her look with a flinty gaze. When it was his turn, Kylo pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning against and squared his shoulders.

He met her gaze, held her eyes for a moment, and then, when he was certain he had her full attention, boldly raked his eyes down her body, gaze tracing all the way to her toes before moving back up. Her eyes were just a hair wider, lips parted the tiniest bit, and he crossed his own arms and leaned back against the wall again as she stared at him. He flexed an arm, saw her gaze darting to follow the motion. “Like what you see, then?”

She gasped, and he smirked at her, watching the color rise in her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something undoubtedly vile (and amusing as hell, surely), but he cut her off.

“Because I suppose you’ll do, once we get you properly polished up and trained.” He angled his head, studying her from the feet up this time. “I mean, it won’t be easy, there’s not a lot to work with, but I suppose I can make the sacrifice, save Armie here the trouble.”

She moved faster than he expected, and he blocked the first punch that would have glanced off his chin, but the second—the one to his midsection—landed hard enough that he made an ‘oof’ sound and doubled over for a moment as she rained a litany of curses on his ears.

Maker, she was amazing.

“Are the pair of you quite finished?” Hux asked, and Rey fell silent and jerked around, almost as if she’d forgotten the other man was there.

Maybe she had. Kylo had certainly intended for all of her attention to be on him.

Rey shifted in her sleep and made a little humming sound, pulling Kylo back to the present.

Falling asleep beside his new wife on their wedding night hadn’t been the _only_ dumb move Kylo Ren made, but it was certainly one that ranked high on the list. Some had been necessary—like having his honorary ‘uncle’ officiate the wedding and going to his hometown to do it.

Watching her sleep had become a habit he couldn’t seem to break. That alone had told him he should be cautious, take care with her. If just watching her was an unbreakable habit, touching her might be his undoing.

It was a fact that though she was no innocent virgin, he was more experienced than she (though less so than most people seemed inclined to believe), and he’d thought giving her the power—leaving the decision in her hands—would buy him some time.

Time for what, he was never able to figure out.

The long weekend was the only wedding gift he could offer her, an extra couple of days before she had to submit to a lifetime of pretending to be someone else. Spending said weekend at Maz’s B&B was probably also dumb, definitely weak, and admittedly selfish, but he wanted the time, just two days, to let her relax before she had to adopt the role of helpless, simpering, vapid heiress slash pampered housewife. Despite the core of steel he knew she possessed, he was worried actually living the lie might break her.

So, he was going to at least give her two days…two and a half, even, if he could manage to blame poor cell signal and ‘marital duty’ to keep Snoke at bay for that long. And if he desperately needed her to approve of this place he had always loved, one of the few good memories of his childhood, no one else needed ever know that, least of all his wife.

He really had meant to stay strong, to stick to their agreement and let Rey take the lead, but then seeing her so desperate and terrified in the hallway—knowing _he_ was responsible—he hadn’t been able to stop himself from pretending to believe it when she said she wanted ( _needed_ ) him to kiss her. It was the one emotional comfort he could give her. They would have to play the besotted newlyweds in public so he could use that to justify his actions to himself and his bosses. They would have to be comfortable with at least touching one another in public. It would be excuse enough…Hopefully.

He stared over Rey’s head, eyes trained blankly on the wall. He was in trouble. It was more than the hallway. She chipped away at his defenses, and they were already threatening to crumble. Before the hallway, when he’d given in to the impulse to kiss her forehead, that had been weak of him as well, but she was just so…so… _cute_ , all flustered as she’d been. Maker help him, he thought his wife was _cute._ Adorable even.

This couldn’t end well. He needed to stay in control, for both of their sakes. He’d give her the weekend, and then go back to maintaining the distance between them. Most days, he was gone to the office by sunrise and usually not home until after dark anyway.

Rey shifted beside him, mumbling in her sleep, and he reflexively tightened his arm around her, pressing her back into his chest. She sighed and tucked her head under his chin. She was peaceful in sleep—most of the time, anyway. She’d lived with him for a few weeks, from the day she made her choice, picked him over Hux, and she’d admitted after the first night he found her pacing the hallway that she couldn’t sleep with the door closed, didn’t like the darkness, being trapped in the shadows.

He suspected it had something to do with her parents, and maybe with the creature of a man they’d left her with, but he didn’t ask. If she chose to tell him someday that was her choice, and it would be in her own time. Kylo had his own demons, and he didn’t intend to _ever_ tell his wife about them. Not the ones she didn’t already know about, anyway.

Regardless, she slept with her door open, and far more often than was healthy or wise, Kylo hovered in the doorway and watched her sleep.

And being the idiot he was, he had closed the door on her earlier, leaving her _alone_ in a strange place. It was no wonder she’d panicked. He’d been willing to do _almost_ anything to make it up to her, so when she wanted a kiss, he gave it to her.

It wasn’t Rey’s fault he couldn’t stop at just one, or that the little whimpers and moans she’d let out, the heat of her pressed against him, had called to something animalistic inside him. He’d known it would happen, only a matter of time, before he had to have her, touch her, make her his. It was why even after he realized she’d been willing, he’d still refused to do what he really wanted. He knew she thought he’d meant she wasn’t ready, but in truth he’d been talking about himself.

Kylo released his hold on Rey, ignoring her whine of protest as he slipped from the bed and covered her again with the sheet and blankets, adding an extra quilt on top.

He’d already showered after waiting for Rey to fall asleep and handling his own needs, before giving in to the urge to hold her for just a little longer. He’d been shocked to have slept at all, even more so that it had been nearly four hours before he snapped awake, ears and eyes straining for whatever it was in the hush of night that was waiting to pounce and drag him into the darkness.

There was nothing. No extra dense shadows, no strange sounds.

All in his head then.

He rarely remembered the nightmares, but they were always there, in the back of his mind even during waking hours, tendrils of darkness and creeping doubt, like whispers in a voice no one else could hear. He didn’t _actually_ hear voices, but the seeds of doubt and rage had been sown so deep he might as well have. Hell, maybe then someone would have saved him from himself.

Kylo stumbled blearily to the kitchen, taking time to make sure the doors he passed through didn’t swing shut behind him and turning on a lamp in his room across the hall, in case Rey woke up. She slept more than he did, but that wasn’t saying much.

Little more than an hour later, Rey wandered down the stairs. He heard her coming and met her at the kitchen doorway with a cup of coffee which she accepted with a sleepy smile. She’d tugged on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt that was at least two sizes too large for her, but her feet were bare. He glanced back over his shoulder at the open door leading to the porch from the kitchen. No time for shoes. “Come on,” he said, one hand on her back to urge her to the doorway. She hissed when her toes met the cool tile and muttered something about socks. “It will be worth it,” he said and she looked at him curiously for a moment before nodding and letting him lead her outside.

He settled her into a wide rocking chair that was intended for two people. He’d already turned it to the perfect angle and dropped a small blanket in her lap. She smiled her thanks and tucked her legs and feet under her. He stood behind the chair, leaning down to point over her shoulder. “Watch, just there,” he said softly, and watched the wonder on her face as the sun rose over the lake, making the water sparkle like blood rubies. She sighed happily and leaned back against the chair, eyes closed as the sky continued to lighten and the first gentle wash of golden light crept over her. He didn’t let her see him smile behind her but he did, the feeling as his lips curled foreign and off, but right somehow.

They’d moved back inside well before Maz came in with their breakfast and the old woman seemed irritated to find them up and dressed and waiting. She didn’t say anything though, not then, just set about pulling what seemed like an impossible number of bowls and containers from the heavy basket she’d carried through the back yard from the small cottage just past the tree line. He could see the curiosity in Rey’s eyes, but she didn’t ask why Maz didn’t live in the main house and use the kitchen there.

“You should have plenty left to carry you until supper,” Maz said as Rey took an obscenely large bite of scrambled eggs. “At least I thought so,” the woman added, watching Rey devour her breakfast with a small smile. “At any rate, I won’t be around today, but I take it you know where things are.” Kylo nodded, hoping Rey was distracted enough with her breakfast that she didn’t quite catch the details of the conversation.

Maz left the basket at his request and bid Rey goodbye. His wife was merrily inhaling a fresh baked blueberry muffin and crumbs sprayed the table as she called a friendly goodbye to the older woman. Kylo shook his head, willing himself not to smile or laugh.

It wasn’t cute. Really. Was _not._ It was disgusting. Right, that was it, disgusting. An appalling lack of manners, just like when Rey pressed a finger to the larger crumbs, retrieving them from the once-clean placemat and then licking her fingertip clean with a happy noise. Kylo cleared his throat and forced himself to look away.

“You said we are making a long weekend of it. If this is the only honeymoon I’m to get, then I am bloody well going to enjoy it. So if I want to use the wrong fork, chew with my mouth open, and lick my plate clean, you don’t get to say anything.”

Something that wanted to be a laugh forced its way out of him. “Fair enough,” he said, moving to the chair across from her and piling food onto his own plate, making a concentrated effort to ignore the little coos and moans that left her mouth every time she tasted something different.

He almost managed to hold himself together, almost managed to pretend she was having no effect on him whatsoever, until she found the damn corn muffin and drizzled honey on top, a tiny bit dripping onto her thumb which she immediately popped into her mouth and sucked clean. He didn’t think she even realized what she was doing until she caught his eye, held his gaze as she intentionally dipped her forefinger in the honey and did it again.

Kylo choked on his bacon and coughed for a solid minute while she watched, a pleased smile on her face. Once it was clear he was mostly fine she shoved her chair back. “Well, I think a shower is in order,” she said, popping the last bite of the muffin in her mouth as she walked away, hips swaying just a little more than usual.

She knew.

_Shit._

He managed to avoid her for an hour, timing it so that he stepped into his own (very cold) shower just as she emerged from her room. He emerged slightly calmer and took his time dressing, then pretended he had work emails to answer. She let him get away with it for a while before wandering in and perching on the foot of the bed with an expectant look on her face.

“So, you have a choice to make,” she said when he put his phone down and turned his full attention to her.

“Do I?”

She nodded. “Oh, yes, you bloody do. I’ll even make it easy for you. Three options.” He nodded and she counted the options off on her fingers.

“One, you can tell me why the judge last night and the owner of this place seem to know you, and act like it’s been that way for a very long time.” He swallowed, willing himself not to show any other signs of anxiety at that idea. He doubted she could come up with a worse option.

“Two, you can finish what we started last night.” Okay, he was wrong, that was definitely a worse option.

“Or three, you can get me out of this house for a while in an attempt to keep me distracted from the first two options. But you should know, both of those things are going to happen eventually.” She stood up and walked the few feet to the doorway before glancing back over her shoulder. “I’ll leave you to mull it over. Don’t take too long.”

They hiked around the lake before lunch, had a winter picnic by the water, both bundled in multiple layers but still shivering when the breeze across the water picked up, and then returned to warm up in the house. Kylo built a fire in the living room and wasn’t completely shocked when Rey drifted off, turned sideways in the large armchair she’d claimed with her feet dangling over the arm. Dinner was simple but delicious, and Rey didn’t comment when he reached for seconds on what Maz knew were his lifelong favorite comfort foods, even though his wife was fully aware he didn’t eat those things anymore. He’d told her himself, more than once.

He managed to avoid a repeat of the previous night, but Rey still managed to get him to agree to staying with her until she slept, which once again morphed into Kylo falling asleep to the sound of her even breathing, one arm over her waist and his face buried in her hair.

He slept for over five hours that night, and for once the nightmares that woke him weren’t his own.


	5. The Devastating Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey wakes up the morning after the party, and remembers another party, the first she attended as Kylo's wife.
> 
> _“You don’t touch her,” he hissed, lifting the offending hand away. Rey heard a grinding crack and the man made a pained sound as her husband refused to let up on the pressure and added a slight twist. Kylo said something else she didn’t quite catch, followed with a low growl of_ “Mine.” _He made some kind of gesture and armed First Order security just appeared from elsewhere to escort the man somewhere that was_ away. __
> 
> _Kylo slipped an arm around her waist. “I think you actually broke his hand,” she said, surprised at how breathy the words sounded in her own ears._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a note on the fiasco that is story structure...I had a grand plan to alternate 2 chapters in "present" (i.e. about 2 years into the marriage), one in Rey's POV and one in Kylo's, then two flashback chapters, again one in each of their perspectives.
> 
> While I still fully intend to keep up with the alternating POV, the time frame is not going to stay on pattern.
> 
> This chapter starts with Rey in present, ends in a flashback, and then chapter 6 will pick up with Kylo's POV of the flashback events and probably jump back to present. So it's still similar but not the pattern I had intended (because I realized this story will never end if I try to force it...that may or may not be why this chapter has been delayed...). 
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

Even though she had spent the week before the party barely resting for the anxiety of it, Rey was surprised at just how late she slept the next morning. She woke to the sun streaming through the curtains on the glass paneled doors leading to her small balcony, and a wheezy sort of rhythmic snoring from behind her.

She smiled and enjoyed the press of the small, warm body against her shoulder blades. “Good morning, Artoo,” she mumbled and there was a wiggle against her back and a happy snuffling against her hair as the ancient pug realized she was awake. She rolled onto her back and was instantly greeting by dog breath and an enthusiastic tongue bath as she giggled and gently pushed him back before giving him ear scratches. He settled on her chest, bug eyes trained on her in adoration. “And where are your sisters this morning, my silly boy? Hm? Ellie, Bibi, Kira, where are you?” Almost as if they had been waiting for her call, the German Shepherd, Rottweiler, and Doberman that were technically guard dogs for patrolling the grounds burst into the room. “There you are, my sweet girls,” she cooed, giving them each their morning pats and scratches after she sat up and stretched.

“You’ve ruined them all, I hope you know?”

Rey looked up to find her husband leaning against the doorway, watching as the dogs all piled onto the bed—and on top of Rey—tongues lolling out as they rolled about with playful yips. She arched a brow at him. “Oh really? This from the man who buys extra bacon to make breakfast for them every Saturday and learned German so they didn’t have to be trained on new command words?”

“They work hard,” he muttered, and Rey laughed at the playful argument they repeated nearly every weekend. Now that this most recent party was behind them, she felt particularly light and she took a moment to enjoy the spread of her husband’s shoulders, the play of his dark hair brushing against them. He must be working from home for the day. He’d actually put on jeans and a soft, black sweater rather than the suits he wore most of the time.

She shifted to the edge of the bed and Bibi gave a low whine but moved obediently to the side as Rey swung her legs off the bed and stood, hissing as her feet took her weight. She’d forgotten about the mess the shoes had made of her, about the blisters and raw spots. The dogs all whined and moved closer, snuffling and whining at her distress, and Kylo was halfway across the room by the time she looked up.

“I’m fine, really, I just forgot for a moment.” He didn’t look like he believed her but he didn’t argue as she hobbled into her bathroom. He was gone when she came back out, and only Artoo remained, sitting expectantly at the foot of Rey’s bed. “Well come on then, down with you.” Artoo, the only true, non-working _pet_ of their little pack, whined and sat up, front paws waving a moment before he toppled over. Rey shook her head and stepped closer to the end of the bed, picking him up and dropping a kiss on his little head. She barely managed to tilt her own head up in time so that he only licked her chin instead of her mouth. “You and I both know you can use your doggy stairs perfectly well, even with your hip issues,” she said, carrying him to the doorway. “You wouldn’t have been able to get up on the bed in the first place otherwise.” She lowered Artoo gently to the floor and started for the main staircase, only to find Kylo nearly at the top with a tray.

“You need to stay off your feet, and maybe soak them for a while.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then realized he’d brought her breakfast up on the tray that fit just perfectly in the corner by his bathtub, the one Rey believed large enough for three average sized people (or her husband and _maybe_ one other person who didn’t mind being very close, as she well knew) with the fancy jets, and her toes throbbed at that moment, as if warning her not to argue.

Of course other parts of her were throbbing too (and not only in a bad way), but she tried not to focus on that…for now.

She snagged a piece of bacon off her plate and turned back down the hallway, heading straight for the master suite.

She found the tub already full, bath salts and bubbles giving the steam filling the room a nice fragrance. She turned to her husband. “I thought the bubbles were bad for it.”

“More like the overflow of foam in the floor is a hazard,” he said, giving her a look that had her looking away and blushing.

“Not my fault,” she muttered, “you were quite distracting.”

He gave a low chuckle. “You like them, and I had them include the kind that won’t be such a problem in the last grocery order. Also, I won’t be in here to _distract_ you, more’s the pity.”

She blamed the heat in her cheeks on the steam. Honestly, she did like bubble baths, a luxury she’d only discovered after marrying Kylo, as even just a hot bath rather than a quick shower had been more extravagance than Rey had ever been able to indulge in. She suspected she wasn’t the only one who liked the bubbles, though.

Kylo balanced the tray in the corner and pointed to the towel he’d had her sit on the night before while he cleaned her feet. “Let me see,” he ordered, and she obediently sat and held up one foot. He removed the plasters carefully and frowned when some of the adhesive remained behind. He looked her right foot over carefully before repeating the same process with her left. “The rest of the blisters have burst, but the worst scrapes have already scabbed over,” he muttered. He got her settled in the tub and made sure she could reach her food, towels, and the controls for the entertainment center (yes, with TV and music player, as well as a dimmer for the lights) that was built into the far wall. She was more than a little disappointed when he excused himself for work. “Conference call,” he muttered, “probably an hour or so, and depending on how that goes I’ll likely need to go into the office mid-afternoon.”

Ah, well that was that then. No afternoon repeat of the previous night’s activities.

Before he left the room, he placed a hand on the top of her head. “Despite the teasing, you did well last night,” he said, sending a little thrill through her. He paused at the doorway and glanced back once more time. “I put your formal jewelry back in the safe. Your rings are on the counter,” he said, nodding to where the little velvet box rested. Rey winced at the realization she had forgotten to do that even though there was no chastisement in his tone, and she nodded her acknowledgement with a soft thanks. Then he was gone and Rey grabbed more bacon and a piece of buttered toast before turning her attention to the eggs and fruit on her plate.

She almost didn’t see the flower, a small, bluish-purple violet resting on the tray between her plate and juice glass. She didn’t even wonder where he’d gotten it, just smiled.

He was so…she wouldn’t ever use the word out loud but, well, _sweet._ Part of her (fine, most of her, really) wanted to believe it was because he really cared for her, not just perfectionism and the fact that he felt responsible for her.

Her mood soured at the thought, taking her appetite with it. She picked at the eggs, and did eventually finish the mixed berries, but it was more habit and the old determination not to waste anything, and the action left her feeling queasy.

She stayed in the bath until the water began to cool then climbed out and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel.

There was no such thing as a day off for Kylo, but on weekends sometimes he only worked half a day (and occasionally from home) and she could pretend that he actually wanted to be there with her, rather than tolerating her presence.

He’d told her once that he found her existence less irritating than most anyone else and after two years, she took it for the high praise it was, but she wanted _more_.

She wasn’t certain when she actually fell in love with her husband, other than early in their marriage, but Rey recalled everything about the moment she had consciously realized it.

It had been the wildflowers. Weeds, really, at least according to the gardeners.

Rey had gotten up a little earlier than usual on a Saturday just under six months after their wedding and stumbled upon Kylo feeding Artoo a handful of crumbled bacon, the pug cuddled in one muscular arm so that ‘his sisters’ couldn’t steal his treat. She’d been unable to contain her smile as she claimed her own breakfast.

Kylo had joined her for a walk around the grounds and Rey had been overjoyed to wander upon a patch of untamed wildflowers, a mix of early daisies and late violets mostly. She’d been horrified to learn the gardeners were planning to get rid of them, and Kylo had simply told them no.

A few weeks later he’d practically dragged her outside to show her the golden buttercups in what had officially been made her section of the grounds—Rey’s garden—just because he thought she’d like them.

She had, very much so, and when she’d told him as much, he’d hugged her to him and almost-smiled and she suddenly knew without a doubt that she loved her husband. It was a crushing, devastating realization, when she knew full well their marriage was a business arrangement for him.

He gave her wildflowers because they made her happy.

Keeping her happy made his life easier.

Rey sighed and picked up the box with her everyday wedding band and engagement ring—the _real_ ones as far as she was concerned. She had an extreme dislike for the formal set with larger stones. Maybe because she only wore them for formal events—parties and the like.

Maybe because, like her marriage, they were a lie, a façade presented to a world that took everything at face value.

She sighed again and slipped them back onto her left hand, feeling better—more herself—as the cool metal slid into place. She left the box on the counter and returned to her own room for clothes before going back for the tray of dirty dishes.

The staff had learned quickly not to argue with her when she decided to wash up after herself, although the way they watched her sometimes made her wonder if the very idea offended them.

It didn’t take too much effort to convince Kylo to give them at least every other weekend off. Especially after the night she’d finally convinced him to bed her.

He’d broken a man’s _hand_ for touching her shoulder and Rey had nearly combusted on the spot.

She shivered as she allowed the memory of _that_ night to wash over her.

Another party, of course. The first one since they’d been married, her first official appearance as both Sheev Palpatine’s granddaughter and Kylo Ren’s wife.

Oh, the party wasn’t _for_ her or any such silliness. It just so happened to be the first company event since she’d been ‘found’ and brought into the fold. She was there because it was _expected_ , her duty as a Palpatine by blood and as Kylo’s wife _._ She’d been bored out of her mind and more than ready to leave, when one of the Hutts—she still wasn’t sure which one—had caught her in the only moment her husband had left her side, pulled away by Snoke _._

The man had made vague insinuating and suggestive comments and put a hand on her shoulder. She’d attempted to jerk away, surprised by the strength of his grip but ready with sharp words and an uppercut when Kylo magically appeared from nowhere, his hand dwarfing the other man’s and squeezing.

“You don’t touch her,” he hissed, lifting the offending hand away. Rey heard a grinding crack and the man made a pained sound as her husband refused to let up on the pressure and added a slight twist. Kylo said something else she didn’t quite catch, followed with a low growl of _“Mine.”_

He made some kind of gesture and armed First Order security just appeared from elsewhere to escort the man somewhere that was _away._

Kylo slipped an arm around her waist. “I think you actually broke his hand,” she said, surprised at how breathy the words sounded in her own ears.

Her jerked her against him, hard. “No one else gets to touch you,” he said, lips brushing along the shell of her ear, and she shivered against him, shifting at the growing wetness between her thighs.

“Take…take me home, Kylo.” He opened his mouth, looked like he might protest and if he insisted they had to stay a moment longer she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t tackle him to the floor. She cut him off, rushing out the words. “I’m tired of waiting, done with it, and I need you to take me home now.”

He’d nearly dragged her out of the building, barking at security to have the valet bring the car up before they reached the sidewalk. The unspoken _or else_ nearly buckled her knees and she stumbled but he didn’t let her fall.

She thought for a moment he might just toss her over his shoulder but he’d paused long enough to ensure she was steady on her feet (er, as much as she could be at the moment, anyway) before resuming their brisk pace to the lift. He never allowed more than a few inches between them, only enough room to walk, and kept his arm around her the entire time. As the shiny metal doors slid shut he was just suddenly on her, one hand making a mess of her hair (thank goodness it hadn’t been pinned up) as his mouth descended on hers, and the other stretched above them, toward the corner.

Oh. Right.

Security camera.

He was covering the security camera.

She stopped thinking, focused only on the press of lips, the sweep of his tongue, and the near bruising force of it.

For a moment part of her wondered whether he was trying to kiss her or eat her, and the thought was enough to push her from prey to predator.

He grunted when she bit his tongue—lightly, but enough to make him back off just a bit before her lip could be cut against her own teeth. He retaliated by biting her bottom lip, again not hard enough to hurt her, and her legs wobbled, knees threatening to give out. For a moment she thought she might fall and he’d be left holding her up by the grip he maintained on her hair. She shivered again.

The bell and the doors sliding open were unwelcome because it meant they had to separate enough to walk out of the building.

She didn’t want to.

On the other hand, if he had to keep one hand covering the camera, he couldn’t have both on her, so home was best…or maybe the car. No, that wouldn’t work. She doubted he could fold himself into the back seat and she didn’t think the ones in front reclined far enough to allow everything she wanted to do.

She’d been so lost in her own thoughts she barely realized he had her door open and was urging her into the passenger seat. He closed the door once she was safely in and Rey fumbled with her seat belt as he rounded to the driver’s side as a quick clip.

She heard the squeal of the tires as they left the parking lot and saw the smirk on his face as she squeaked. He merged onto the nearly deserted highway and she realized it was later than she had realized. “Pull your dress up,” he ordered gruffly, eyes never leaving the road.

“What?”

“You heard me. Do it.” She fumbled with the dress, tugging and bunching the fabric until the hem rested mid-thigh, the rest of the skirt bunched around her hips. His hand followed, stroking over her knee and moving higher. She wasn’t certain but she thought she heard a hiss of breath as his fingertips skimmed over the dampness at the top of her thigh before pressing against the soaked fabric covering her mound. His fingers moved, gliding, pressing, teasing, before leaving her and she whimpered.

He cursed as he shifted gears. “Fuck, remind me next time I want to drive to take one of the automatics.”

His hand hovered back over her thigh before moving away again.

“Take them off.”

She gasped and turned to look at him.

“ _Off,_ Rey.”

She squirmed, attempting to lift up high enough off the seat that she could grasp the elastic before growling in frustration. “I can’t,” she whined. “Not without taking the seatbelt off.”

“Don’t.”

“I wasn’t actually planning on it,” she said with a pout, then gasped as his hand settled back on her thigh.

“Still fun for me,” he said, fingers idly making circles on her skin. “Really fucking frustrating for you, though.” His hand moved higher again, fingers unerringly finding the aching bud of her clit and pressing just lightly enough against the damp lace and satin to be maddening. She squirmed desperately in the passenger seat, certain there would be a damp spot on the leather when she got out. She couldn’t quite shift far enough to chase his touch, get the pressure she needed, but she tried.

She was panting when he pulled his hand back to change gears again, rolling to a stop at the end of their exit ramp.

Fifteen minutes to home. Could she survive another fifteen minutes?

She wasn’t sure.

He flicked the turn signal, waiting for the light to go from red to green. As it finally did he turned, again watching only the road as he spoke to her. “Pull them to the side and hold them for me.”

She scrambled to do as he said, jerking too hard and giving herself what promised to be a nasty friction burn.

When they were on the mostly straight, two lane road home, his hand came to rest on her again, fingers brushing against hers where she held the fabric aside in a trembling grasp.

She let out a surprised ‘oh’ as he traced her weeping slit with one finger. “You’re going to leave a fucking puddle on the seat, aren’t you?” he said, finger probing, parting her outer lips.

“Kylo please!”

“I asked you a question, Rey,” he said, stilling his movements.

“YES! Yes, I am, a puddle on the seat, I probably already have,” she agreed, panting as his lips twitched and he moved his hand again, that one large fingertip prodding her entrance, barely slipping inside before his touch was gone again, and she keened.

He changed gears again, eased into a turn to another long stretch of empty road. “And why are you going to make a mess on the seat Rey, hm? What’s got you so worked up?”

“KY-LO!” she protested, her own fingers ready to creep over and relieve the maddening tension he’d so effortlessly built up in her.

“Me? Are you saying I did this?”

She grabbed his wrist with her left hand, the right still occupied with holding her panties aside, and pressed his fingers back to her soaked flesh. “Yesss,” she hissed, “You, only you, all you, this is all for you.” He held his hand still, refusing to give her what she was trying so desperately to reach, managing to remain immobile even as she tried with all the strength she could manage with so little leverage.

“ _Rey_.”

His tone was one of warning but she was too far gone to care.

“Fuck, Kylo, PLEASE, make me come, let me come, or I’ll do it myself.”

“Don’t you dare,” he hissed, pulling his wrist from her grasp to get them into the driveway before he threw off his seatbelt and then her own, grabbing the back of her neck and dragging her head forward for a kiss as his other hand settled between her thighs and finally, _finally_ , he stopped teasing her.

She was so very close, hovering just on the precipice, and when two fingers pressed at her entrance she shifted, sliding down just enough in her seat to give him better access to her body. His fingers hooked inside her and the pad of his thumb swirled over her clit and that was it, she was done for, falling over the edge into the abyss.

She thought she screamed for him, it felt like she did, but he still had her mouth covered with his own and he swallowed up the sound as her body pulsed and fluttered and she trembled with aftershocks, and he pulled away from her lips and whispered words against her skin that she couldn’t begin to comprehend at the moment.

When she could breathe again, she opened her eyes and found him staring at her, eyes nearly black. “Get out of the car, Rey,” he said gruffly.

“I…what?”

“Out of the car, and inside. I’m going to put the car in the garage and you better have your ass upstairs before I get there.”

She nodded once, twice, repeatedly, chin nearly bouncing off her chest as she scrambled to do as he said.

She paused in the kitchen to grab some water. She didn’t want either of them to have any reason to come back downstairs before morning. The pause allowed Kylo time to catch up, and she turned to face him as he entered the kitchen, tugging off his tie and jacket and tossing them carelessly onto the kitchen island before unbuttoning his collar. “Smart girl. Hydration is important,” he said, and she clutched the chilled bottles to her chest and nodded again. His cufflinks and belt landed beside his tie.

“Rey?”

“Yes, Kylo?”

“What did I tell you?”

She swallowed and stared, fascinated by his every movement as he rolled his sleeves back. “You…” What was it again? What had he said? Something.

He stared at her, jaw twitching. “Get your ass upstairs, Rey.” She stumbled once, halfway to the stairs, when her knees buckled again.

It was happening.

Really and truly.

_Finally._

She didn’t even hesitate at her own door, going straight down the hall to his. She deposited the water bottles on his nightstand and turned on the lamp there before facing the door to wait for him.

Surely, he wouldn’t be far behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh...oh Rey...silly girl just doesn't see what's right there...


	6. The Ground Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo tries to control himself, tries to resist his wife, but she's done waiting.
> 
> _“I was sure you’d be locked in your own room, after the way I’ve been acting. I thought I’d scared you.”_
> 
> _She sighed softly. “Maybe a little bit, but I meant what I said when I told you I was tired of waiting and I wanted to come home.” She paused, pulling back just slightly and tilting her head as far as he would let her, just far enough to look him in the eyes. “I’m not sure what it says about me, but when you broke that man’s hand, just for having the audacity to touch me, it was all I could do not to just climb you right there in the middle of the party.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picking up from the flashback that ended chapter 5, Kylo's version of the night they consummated the marriage...yeah, there's a little brooding because that's what he does but other than that this chapter is basically just smut. I have no idea why but this particular story just keeps trying to be porn. Maybe I'll blame the playlist...that I built...after coming up with the idea...sigh... Hopefully it's at least a little character building/revealing? Or something?
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)
> 
> Updated the tags again for this and upcoming chapters. Again, please tell me if I have missed something glaringly obvious.

“Get your ass upstairs, Rey.” She stared at him, eyes wide, and shivered, before practically running for the stairs, stumbling once in her heels and barely able to keep her hold on the water bottles she was carrying.

Kylo slammed his palms against the granite countertop and cursed himself under his breath. He’d been too rough with her, too harsh. She was his _wife._

She was _Rey_.

She deserved better than too rough…too much…too _him._

He had to get control, rein himself in, before he terrified her even more.

God forbid, before he _hurt_ her in his haste to be inside her, to finally claim her and secure his eternity in his own personal hell.

Five minutes. He’d take five minutes.

He’d catch his breath and Rey would have time to get upstairs and lock him out.

Ten minutes later he was still furiously fighting the impulse to stomp up the stairs and break down her door.

He checked to be sure the guard dogs had water inside and out and the dog door hadn’t been accidentally blocked by any of the staff over the course of the day, ensured Artoo was safely in the laundry room for the night, and took another slow breath before climbing the stairs.

He was surprised to find Rey’s door open, the room dark and empty, and then shocked to turn and see the faint light coming from the doorway of the master suite.

Had she really…

Kylo stumbled and nearly tripped himself in his haste to get to his room. He caught himself on the doorframe, heartbeat pounding in his ears as she offered him a shy, relieved smile.

“I was starting to think you meant me to go to bed alone.”

He swallowed, couldn’t seem to remember how to speak for a moment. Her smile wavered as he just kept staring at her in silence and she looked down. “I guess you did. I…I’m sorry, I’ll go.” She started toward him, looking up in confusion when he didn’t move aside, still blocking the doorway.

“Kylo?”

It was a nearly silent whisper, and he could have sworn he saw the shine of tears welling in her eyes in the dim glow from the bedside lamp she’d switched on.

He still didn’t speak, but almost without his permission, his hands came up, cupping her face, practically covering the sides of her head as he leaned in and kissed her. She whimpered and her own hands came to rest on his wrists, holding his hands in place as she kissed him back.

He may have made a small noise of his own as she raised up on tiptoe to get a better angle, her hands sliding up his arms, over his shoulders and down his chest before clutching desperately at the fabric of his shirt as his tongue swept into her mouth, again and again.

Reluctantly he broke from her, resting his forehead against hers as he struggled for breath, for control. One of his hands slid around the back of her neck, cupping the base of her skull as the other trailed down her back, tracing the delicate curves and dips of her body.

“I thought…fuck, Rey, I was sure you’d be locked in your own room, after the way I’ve been acting. I thought I’d scared you.”

She sighed softly. “Maybe a little bit, but I meant what I said when I told you I was tired of waiting and I wanted to come home.” She paused, pulling back just slightly and tilting her head as far as he would let her, just far enough to look him in the eyes. “I’m not sure what it says about me, but when you broke that man’s hand, just for having the audacity to touch me, it was all I could do not to just climb you right there in the middle of the party.”

His breath caught. Why? Why was he surprised?

“Rip it,” he said gruffly, and she paused, staring up at him a moment as if trying to decide if he really meant what she thought he did. He almost laughed. “My feral little scavenger…do it,” he said, releasing his hold on her only to grab her hands and guide them back to his already strained shirt front.

Her expression was less smile and more animalistic baring of teeth as she didn’t hesitate any longer, grasping the edges of the fabric where he’d already opened one button before yanking with enough force to knock him off balance if he hadn’t been prepared for it.

It was overkill, surely, but he felt an overwhelming sense of pride for her as buttons scattered, landing with little pings and plops all around them.

He kissed her again as her hands trailed over his skin, blunt, polished nails scratching just hard enough to leave angry, red trails down his torso. He trailed his lips down her neck and fumbled at her back for the zipper of her dress. It caught, stuck, and he growled his frustration against her lips before taking half a step back and grabbing one side of the plunging neckline in each hand then jerking, ripping the fabric down the middle.

It was the first time he’d ripped a designer original off of her, but he knew instantly it would not be the last.

Rey gasped and stared at him a moment as he shoved the straps off her shoulders and the black fabric fluttered around her before settling in a silken puddle at her feet. Then it was his turn to stare.

He’d seen her bared for him nearly every night since their wedding, but never all at once. He hadn’t allowed himself that, not yet.

“When…where?”

Oh, kriff, he was babbling.

She smirked at him and gestured to his bed—his _pillow_ —where the damp scrap of satin and lace that passed for her underwear lay, taunting him.

Red.

They were red with black lace trim.

He hadn’t actually seen them earlier, between not enough light in the car and attempting to concentrate at least partially on driving. She’d coordinated her fucking _underwear_ with his _tie_.

She stood there, gloriously nude, in her formal jewelry and high heels, and somehow, _he_ was the one at a disadvantage.

Because…Rey.

Naked. Fully. He’d seen all of her bare, but not all at once, because his control had been thin enough and no matter how much she teased and attempted to entice and seduce, she hadn’t said the words until just over an hour ago.

He made a sound that even he could admit was more animal than human and hauled her against him. She gave a little jump when she felt him lifting her off the floor, wrapping her legs around him and nipping at his neck as he crossed the room. She kicked her shoes off when he deposited her on his bed and he was tempted to ask her to put them back on, but that would take time and words and energy, none of which he wanted to waste. She scooted back to the middle of the mattress as he crawled over her, straddling her thighs and sitting up on his knees to finish removing his mangled shirt.

She watched him, eyes following every movement, every slight, involuntary muscle twitch, and licked her lips as she reached out, fingers grasping at the waistband of his pants and tugging, urging him back down where she could reach him.

He let her pull him to her for another kiss. He couldn’t deny her that, didn’t want to, and he suppressed a groan and a shudder as her hands explored the skin of his chest, arms, and back. He didn’t manage to stop the intake of breath when her hands slid down over his ass and pressed down and the same time her legs locked around his thighs and jerked, making him all but collapse on her despite his efforts to maintain enough space he didn’t crush her.

She giggled, the damn woman was giggling as she locked her limbs and refused to let him move away. He could feel her face pressed against his shoulder, but he couldn’t see her.

“Rey, please, let go.”

“No.”

“Rey…”

“Don’t want to.” She must have been shaking her head to accompany her refusal.

“Will you at least let me move so I can see you and make sure you can breathe?”

She hesitated that time, and when she spoke her voice was that same small, scared whisper from earlier, when she thought he wanted her to leave. “Promise you won’t leave?”

“ _Never_.” She loosened her hold, allowing him to settle on the bed between her thighs, his longer torso shifting just far enough away that he could look her in the eye. “Rey, our marriage may not be about love and devotion and all the fluffy dreams people have that never come true, but I don’t do things half-way. You’re smart and funny and beautiful, and you’re less irritating than pretty much anyone else in the world. I’m not going anywhere.” He paused a moment, watched as she mulled over his words, and then he grabbed her arms, pinning her wrists above her head in one hand as he leaned down until his lips were brushing against her ear and said, “And neither are you.”

She made a soft sound, half breathy sigh and half moan, and locked her legs around his waist again.

“Now, I think we need to set some ground rules here,” Kylo continued, his grip on her wrists loose enough she could easily free herself as he shifted to the side and trailed his free hand over her face, stroking his thumb over her lips before continuing down her neck, tracing her collarbones and then covering one pert breast, just holding it really—for the moment. She gasped and squirmed at the touch, and he felt a tug at her wrists. He released his hold, thinking she wanted to be free, but interestingly enough she grasped at the edge of the mattress and held tight, straining her arms to full length. He wondered how she would feel about having her wrists tied and filed the thought away for later.

“So, first rule,” he said, propping his head on the hand he’d been using to hold her wrists and pressing the one on her breast more firmly against her but only that, just pressing down. “You will tell me if I do anything you don’t like. Understood?”

She nodded.

“Answer me, Rey. Do you understand?”

“Yes!” she hissed, the word turning into a yelp as he shifted his hand, rolling the stiff peak of her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

He smirked at her. So responsive.

“Second, like the first, if anything hurts you will tell me so I can fucking _stop_.”

He shifted to her other breast, giving that one the same attention as he leaned down, mouth hovering over the nipple he’d just so cruelly abandoned, flicking his tongue out in a teasing lick before angling his head and rolling his eyes up to look at her. “I didn’t hear an answer, Rey.”

She licked her lips and squirmed again. “If anything hurts in a bad way, I’ll tell you to stop,” she panted.

He didn’t comment on the addition she’d made, filing away that bit of information as well. He opened his mouth wide, taking in as much of her breast as possible and sucking before easing up just a bit and letting her feel the hint of his teeth. She gasped and squirmed and released her hold on the edge of the mattress, fingers of one hand threading through his hair and holding him to her. “Again, again, please, Kylo, do that again.”

She whined when he lifted his head and released her completely. “Good girl, already following rule three: tell me what you want.” He moved to her other breast, hand coming back up to toy again with the rosy bud he’d made shiny with his saliva. Again, a single, teasing swipe of the tongue. “There will be more rules, I’m sure, but those three are the main ones, so we’ll leave it there for now,” he said, before trailing kisses and bites along the sensitive underside of her breast and returning to the stiff peak to swirl his tongue over her before trying a gentle bite. She yelped and made a fist in his hair, not letting him pull away. It wasn’t exactly using her words, but he’d take it.

He trailed his hands over the soft skin of her belly, skimmed over the flare of her hips, and then grazed his fingertips down her thighs as he kissed his way down her body, pausing beside her navel and again on one hip to suck a bruise into her skin, leave a faint impression of his teeth.

She whimpered when he moved away from her. “Turn over.” His voice was soft but it was not a request. It took her a moment, and in the end she was trembling enough he had to help her settle onto her stomach, head pillowed on her arms as he brushed her hair aside and explored her back and shoulders with lips and teeth and tongue. He ran his hands down either side of her spine, her waist, and kept going, palms sliding over her skin all the way to her feet and then back up to the point her thighs met the delicious curve of her ass. She moaned and squirmed when he traced the spot with his tongue and then bit the back of her thigh. She shrieked for him then, hips jerking up off the bed and he allowed himself a laugh, let himself smile at her reaction because she couldn’t see him do it. Even only two weeks into their marriage, the expression was crossing his face more often, feeling less foreign every time. So far, she hadn’t seen it, and he couldn’t afford to let her.

He put a hand on her, pressing her hips back down, and moved over her, caging her in with his arms and legs as he leaned down and buried his face against her neck and shoulder. “You’re making it very difficult for me to be gentle, Rey,” he muttered against her skin.

“Maybe I don’t want gentle,” she said, struggling to lift her hips again, pressing her ass against him, grinding into his erection. His breath caught and he nearly fell on her, tensing his arms just in time as she somehow managed to turn onto her back again. Her hand came up and traced his jaw. “Kylo, if I wanted gentle, I could have chosen Hux.” Her fingers tightened, unerringly finding the pressure point just under his jaw and sending lightning bolts radiating down his neck before she slid her fingers back into his hair and made a fist. Rey shifted, managing to raise up and bite his earlobe before whispering, “You’ll have to start slow, there’s no avoiding that.” The hand not in his hair trailed over the bulge in his pants and her fingers squeezed his cock, almost to the point of pain. “But Kylo? I want to be able to still feel this next week,” she hissed.

And that was it, all it took for him to finally let go, lose control completely.

He’d had such plans, intended to draw it out, make her come at least twice with his mouth and fingers, take his time and make it all about Rey’s pleasure, but she’d figured out exactly how to bash through his resolve.

It took both of them to get his pants off, fingers fumbling and Rey even using her feet to push at the fabric as they…well, technically it was kissing, but it was bruising and violent, a mix of clacking, biting teeth and prodding tongues, leaving their lips stinging, swollen, bruised. She scratched at his shoulders and chest like she had after he’d told her to rip his shirt open, bearing down just a little harder and he was pretty sure she didn’t bleed him (not that he would care if she did) but it was a close thing.

They both froze, not even breathing, when he prodded at her entrance.

“ _Slow,_ ” he hissed, pressing in bit by bit.

“To _start_ ,” she said, hands gripping his arms as she wrapped her legs around his waist again, locking her ankles and angling her hips for him just a bit. He tried to remember to breathe as he pulled back just a fraction and pushed forward again. She flinched and bit her lip but cut him off before he could say anything when he noticed her distress. “I’m fine, really, don’t stop. Just…you are in fact a rather large man.”

Fuck, he hadn’t blushed this much since he was a teenager, and here he was doing it again. He’d lost count of how many times it had been in just a few weeks. All because of her.

If Rey noticed, if she understood it wasn’t just a flush of arousal, she didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge it, and he realized again how lucky he was. He hadn’t expected more than maybe mutual lust and a friendly sort of companionship out of their marriage, but he was beginning to understand there was mutual respect and maybe even actual friendship developing.

“Kylo? Where did you go?” He blinked down at her as she stroked a gentle hand down his face. “You weren’t really here and now, were you?”

“Sorry, just…thinking.”

She smiled at him, actually _smiled_. “Well, we can’t have that. If you can think then we’re doing something wrong.”

She giggled and he groaned as her body moved with it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “Oh, don’t do that,” he said, afraid to move, but it set off another fit of giggles and he couldn’t help but drive forward, eyes flying open and body freezing at her hiss of pain.

“Oh, shit, fuck, I’m sorry!” She shook her head though, used her legs to hold him in place when he tried to pull back—to pull out of her.

“Fine, I’m fine, just need another moment.”

“You need a distraction,” he muttered, leaning down to mouth at her neck as he managed to get one hand in between them, thumb brushing lightly over her a few times before pressing harder, circling the engorged bundle of nerves as he pulled back and pressed forward again. She moaned and he almost smiled against her skin again. This was dangerous.

“Again,” she demanded, and he did as he was told, slow and steady, until she gasped. “Harder.” Another demand, another _order_ , but for once he didn’t mind being the one receiving orders rather than issuing them. She squirmed and panted, trying to lift her hips higher, to meet his every thrust. He managed to move his hand under her, helped her angle her hips higher. She moaned and clenched around him and he struggled up onto his knees without breaking the brutal pace they’d set, using both hands to hold her up, pull her against him, onto him, every time his hips drove forward, dimly realizing only her shoulders and head were still touching the bed.

She moaned and babbled, mostly sounds and nonsense but punctuated here and there with his name, and yes, and don’t stop. His grip tightened, and he knew he was probably leaving finger shaped bruises on her skin, as she reached down to make firm circles over her clit. “Fuck yes, baby, just like that, take what you need,” he growled, his own rhythm stuttering as she cried out, body bucking wildly as she clasped and fluttered around him, as if her body was trying to pull him impossibly farther inside. He tried to keep going, carry her through it, but it was just too much and he followed her over with a shout, thrusting roughly a few more times as he twitched and spent inside her before practically dropping her back to the bed and collapsing over her. He ended up with his head pillowed on her breasts, struggling to regain his senses as she held him to her, legs thrown around him again and her fingers idly trailing through his hair.

“I cannot believe you let me wait this long for that,” she muttered, and he could imagine the playful pout on her face even if he couldn’t see it from his current position.

He chuckled and nuzzled her skin. “I seem to recall us agreeing it would be your decision, so it’s not really my fault is it?”

“Hm, I don’t know, I think I was misled by incomplete information. Had I known it would be like that I think I might have tackled you the day I moved in.”

“Well, you _are_ completely feral.” She flicked his ear and he flinched before grabbing her hand and pulling it around to his mouth to bite at the offending finger.

“Ouch!” she cried playfully, “You monster! I guess you’d know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure the next chapter will be yet another flashback chapter from Rey's POV, including the six weeks of "courtship" by both Hux and Kylo.


	7. The Charade of a Courtship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux and Kylo have very different approaches to courting the Palpatine heiress.
> 
> _“I know Hux is letting you choose places and activities you feel comfortable with, but I am telling you, that is a mistake.” He fell silent as a man appeared with wine that she didn’t recall them ordering, angling the bottle for Kylo to inspect. He glanced over the label and gave a nod, and the man opened the bottle and poured the deep red liquid into their glasses before moving silently away, leaving the bottle with them. “Short of taking you to my house, this is the most privacy we can get.” She blinked at him, knowing her eyes were too wide. She couldn’t read him, couldn’t gauge his thoughts or feelings any more than she could a stone wall._
> 
> _“The staff here are trustworthy enough,” he said, his free hand lifting his wine glass, swirling the liquid around for a moment before he grimaced and put it back down without taking a sip. He leaned forward the slightest bit. “This whole world, the people in it, they’ll do their best to destroy you,” he said. “Don’t let them.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut, just dating and maybe a teeny bit of plot.
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

“You’re going to choose Ren.”

That was it, no preamble, no social niceties, not even a glance up at her from where his attention was divided between his mobile and the menu of the casual restaurant Rey had chosen at random.

She studied Hux in silence for a moment. “And why am I going to do that?”

He looked up then, sharp gaze pinning her like a mounted butterfly. “Why, indeed?” he said, almost more to himself than her. He tucked his mobile back into the inner pocket of his suit coat and placed the menu on the table with a grimace at the sticky tabletop.

She smirked at him and crossed her arms. “Well then, out with it. I’m still waiting for your answer.”

He kept his gaze steady, studying her in silence for an increasingly uncomfortable length of time. So, it was to be a battle of wills then, fine. “If the question is too difficult, perhaps I should change my inquiry to why _not_ you.”

He was doing it again, looking at her like she’d done something interesting and surprised him.

“Bloodlines, for one. We all know the old boys claim to have left the decision to us, pretending not to care, but they want you tied to Ren. Should they ever retire or kick off, _he_ will be the CEO and a majority shareholder. They like to play at fostering a rivalry between us, but it’s been clear from the beginning how things would fall.”

She heard a buzz and he reached for his pocket before stopping the motion and dropping his hand back to the table.

“How long?” she asked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your relationship? I assume it’s serious, for you to give up the chance at my apparent inheritance, not to mention going to such pains to hide it from my grandfather and his cronies.”

He blanched, going impossibly pale, to the point she was genuinely worried he’d pass out.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. And you’re right, I probably am going to pick him, especially now that you’ve just confirmed my suspicions that you’re spoken for.” She was rewarded by wide eyes and some uncharacteristic sputtering and she smiled as she took a sip of the water she’d requested as soon as they arrived.

She sat back and crossed her arms, allowing herself a pleased smile. She already knew getting any kind of visible physical reaction of surprise from Hux (or Kylo, for that matter) was quite a victory. “You’re right, though. It’s nothing personal, but I can’t see tying myself to you forever, even if you were free of other _obligations_.” She took another sip as he narrowed his eyes, that gaze on her again. “I’m certain you would be an exemplary husband, and you’re clearly excellent at…whatever your job happens to be, but I suspect you and I would never be convincing as a couple.”

“You actually like him,” Hux said, and it was her turn to react, flushing and looking away, unable to hold his gaze. “It was clear the two of you had some strangely distasteful, animal attraction almost from the moment you met, but my dear, I suspect you genuinely like him as a person, despite the fact that you clearly wish to deny it. Whatever _did_ he do to bring this about?”

Rey kept her eyes steadfastly glued to the table. She was in over her head, had let too much slip in her confidence that she could do what was expected.

How? How had Hux seen straight through her?

“Still, I find I simply cannot allow myself to let Ren win so easily. Therefore, you and I will continue the charade of a courtship, and you will, of course, keep _all_ of this to yourself.”

She glared at him, offended at his tone, but softened at the worry he was struggling to hide as he patted his pocket again. “You should check that,” she said, looking away and toying with her napkin as he pulled his mobile back out and scanned over his messages, the ghost of a smile playing over his lips.

Of the two of them, _Hux_ was somehow the more expressive, easier to read. Kylo always seemed angry and annoyed. The few times she coaxed an almost-smile from him, his face twisted more in a grimace of pain than an expression of anything resembling joy or pleasure. She sighed and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands with elbows propped on the table. A flash of _something_ (probably distaste) showed on Kylo’s face, and she suspected he was grinding his teeth at her distinct lack of etiquette.

On their most recent “date,” Hux had as usual tossed her a haughty look, ordered her in clipped tones to “choose a place no one would expect me to go” and led her to a luxury sedan. Kylo though…he left _nothing_ to chance. Her day had begun with a messenger delivering a garment bag, shoebox, and two separate boxes of tissue wrapped lingerie. It had all been accompanied by a necklace, bracelet, and earrings heavy with rubies a shade darker than the dress and a terse note informing her that someone would arrive to do her hair and make up at four o’clock sharp, and that Kylo expected her to be ready promptly at seven.

At six fifty-eight he was waiting in the foyer of her grandfather’s house (one of them, anyway), glaring down at his ridiculously expensive watch as she called over the railing that she would need “just a bit longer.”

He didn’t say anything, though, surprising her. He wanted to be that way? _Fine._

Rey kicked her shoes back off and stared at herself in the mirror, dumping the contents of her tiny handbag and dragging her thumb across her lip, frowning as she realized the lip stain really was smudge proof as promised.

She eyed the make up remover on the dressing table.

No, best not. The make up artist had been lovely and Rey had already ruined her work once by crying when she’d first seen her own reflection. She’d gasped out apologies over and over and the woman simply patted her cheek and smiled before saying, “Oh, not to worry, dear, it’s an easy enough fix and we have plenty of time.”

It had been true enough. Even with washing her face, reapplying the makeup, and touching up her hair, the woman had finished her work an hour before Kylo was due to arrive. Rey had been ( _im_ )patiently waiting for over thirty minutes, glaring down at the toes of the designer shoes on her feet. She supposed they weren’t quite so uncomfortable as she had expected, but that didn’t mean she _liked_ them.

They were… _shoes._

And she was afraid to walk in them lest she scratch them up or get them dirty.

She heard the angry, rhythmic thump of his feet on the glossy hardwood of the hallway and sighed, slipping the robe off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. She grabbed her handbag and shoved the scattered contents back inside before she stepped back into the shoes and threw open the door just as he raised his hand to knock.

“Coming, no need for violence,” she said, slipping under his arm and striding down the hall, every clomp of her heels echoing in the empty house. She paused at the top of the stairs, looking back over her shoulder at him. “Well, don’t dawdle, are you coming or not?”

She didn’t quite catch everything he muttered as he followed her, but there was a good bit of vehement and creative swearing coming from behind her. She bit her own tongue to keep from laughing and chanced a glance back at him again. Unfortunately, the hem of the red silk dress and the pointy toe of the shoe chose that moment to greet one another and she pitched forward with a yelp.

She didn’t fall.

As suddenly as she stumbled, her forward momentum was arrested by his hands, one on her arm and the other wrapping around and landing on her stomach. She felt him against her back, solid and broad, and then just as quickly as he’d caught her, he was gone, hands falling away from her as soon as she regained her balance. She shivered at the loss of the warmth radiating from his torso.

Cold. She was just cold, that was all. Her grandfather kept the heating down low and the red silk dress was long but strapless and low in the back, leaving her upper back and shoulders exposed to the frigid air.

So of course, that was all it was.

She heard a soft curse from the step behind her. “I told them to include a wrap,” he muttered.

Well, at least _he_ believed she was shivering from the ambient temperature rather than the sudden sensations of feeling his touch, his warmth, then having it torn away again.

For a moment—only a brief one—she considered “tripping” again before telling herself she was a ridiculous idiot. Movement in the periphery of her vision proved to be his hand, and she took it and allowed him to steady her the rest of the way down the stairs. He released his hold when they reached the glossy marble floor of the foyer but she felt the spread of his fingers spanning her lower back as he guided her past the silent butler and through the open door.

A chauffeured town car took them to a non-descript building housing a restaurant so upscale there was almost no signage, as if the proprietor wished to maintain exclusivity by refusal to announce the location to the wrong sort.

Like Rey.

Though not Kylo, apparently, as the staff all seemed to know him by name and escorted the pair of them to his “usual table” without delay. She stared down at the assortment of utensils (what on earth could she possibly need with a fork _that_ small) in dismay. She’d never used more than a single spoon or fork and maybe a knife for an entire meal. She glanced up at Kylo and found him watching her carefully. A test, then, perhaps? To see if she could survive a simple dinner in his world.

Er, their world, now, she supposed. Rey kept conveniently forgetting she was an heiress. She shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting in her chair as she fought against the rising panic. It was ridiculous, she knew, but it felt like every employee, every patron, was staring at her in judgement.

She gasped when a large, warm hand covered hers, thumb stroking lightly over her wrist. “You have to breathe, Rey.” The words were gentler than she had expected, and she jerked her chin up, meeting his eyes. Was that…sympathy?

No, of course not.

More like pity.

“I didn’t bring you here as some kind of punishment. Rey, no matter who you choose, you _have_ to become accustomed to this world. You need a teacher, and it doesn’t have to be me, but your only other choice is Hux.”

That was funny. Why was that funny?

He flipped her hand over, thumb making the same soothing patterns on the inside of her wrist, but something about the touch felt different.

“I know Hux is letting you choose places and activities you feel comfortable with, but I am telling you, that is a mistake.” He fell silent as a man appeared with wine that she didn’t recall them ordering, angling the bottle for Kylo to inspect. He glanced over the label and gave a nod, and the man opened the bottle and poured the deep red liquid into their glasses before moving silently away, leaving the bottle with them. “Short of taking you to my house, this is the most privacy we can get.” She blinked at him, knowing her eyes were too wide. She couldn’t read him, couldn’t gauge his thoughts or feelings any more than she could a stone wall.

“The staff here are trustworthy enough,” he said, his free hand lifting his wine glass, swirling the liquid around for a moment before he grimaced and put it back down without taking a sip. He leaned forward the slightest bit. “This whole world, the people in it, they’ll do their best to destroy you,” he said. “Don’t let them.”

Someone new approached the table, delivering food they hadn’t even ordered, before slipping silently away. Kylo held her eyes for a moment before very deliberately releasing her hand and reaching for the first fork. She did the same, and he gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

The meal was phenomenal, the company surprisingly pleasant, and true to his word, it was the most privacy she could expect in a public location with her face still appearing occasionally in the tabloids as the “Lost Palpatine Heiress.”

They didn’t talk much after the first course was delivered, and there were times she forgot herself and gasped or moaned when tasting something new and particularly decadent. People at nearby tables muttered and at least two rolled their eyes but Kylo just seemed…amused? Maybe? He didn’t smile, but his mouth twitched a time or two and something about his eyes said he was pleased. When she tried a sip of the wine and nearly choked before muttering about how it was bloody awful, she was fairly certain she heard him chuckle before he gestured and someone removed both glasses and the bottle, whisking them away.

She watched him carefully every time a new dish was placed before her, and she managed not to send her water glass crashing to the floor or drop her dessert spoon. After dessert he placed a black, metal credit card in the leather folio without ever glancing at the check and signed with a flourish when it was returned to the table. It didn’t escape her notice that he had written in a generous tip and yet still tucked in a few bills before handing the folio back with a comment about dance lessons and schoolbooks. She couldn’t quite make out all that was said, but it was enough to stir up a mix of emotions inside her.

They didn’t talk on the ride back to the house, and he didn’t say much as he saw her to the door and safely inside, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, and she knew without a doubt that Hux was right. Her choice was already made, probably had been from the moment he grabbed her and growled in her ear that they weren’t there to hurt her and wanted to help her get away from Plutt.

A real frying pan/fire situation, as it turned out.

But she was starting to believe that getting closer to Kylo Ren might be worth the burn.

They continued their pattern, Hux allowing Rey to choose their activities and meals, Kylo controlling every encounter down to the lingerie he wouldn’t even see her wearing. She and Hux had pizza and beer, watched sports matches at whatever local pub or dive bar she picked at random from an area map on his mobile. Kylo took her to the symphony, the ballet, the opera, and more restaurants like the first.

Both of them attempted to bring her up to speed on etiquette, society gossip, and even the occasional tidbits about First Order business.

Neither of them ever touched her more than a hand to steady her as she walked or catch her when she inevitably stumbled. Kylo never repeated the hand holding from that first evening, although once or twice she imagined him stopping himself after reaching out for her.

At the end of the six weeks, she found herself summoned back to the conference room at the First Order headquarters, once again between Hux and Kylo as she attempted to remain calm and cool while Snoke and her grandfather spoke at her, around her, but never directly to her and Pryde looked on with disdain.

“Out with it then. Which of you is to make the sacrifice and wed the chit?”

Rey stiffened and felt Kylo’s hand on her back, Hux cup her elbow again, just as they had six weeks prior when the whole idiotic plan had been foisted on her.

“Perhaps you should ask R—Miss Palpatine, as it was in fact her decision,” Hux said, sounding bored and annoyed, as planned. For his own sake, he needed to appear both unaffected and yet angry to have lost. Kylo gave him a look over Rey’s head, and though she couldn’t see it she could imagine.

“I should have known the pair of you would muck it up,” Snoke muttered. “Imagine leaving _any_ decision to a mere woman.” Rey ground her teeth, bit down on her own tongue to keep from replying. Kylo’s thumb moved, stroking a circle on her back, and she fought to unclench her fists. She could do this. They had a plan. She just hadn’t counted on how incredibly angry merely being in the room with the three old men would make her. She glanced down at her shoes, blinking once, twice, then looked back up and met her grandfather’s gaze.

She forced a giggle, feeling sick, and snaked her arm under Kylo’s, clinging to him and leaning her head on his upper arm. “This one,” she said, “I want Kylo. He buys me pretty things.” She was supposed to giggle again, and comment about how he was taller as well, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Fortunately, the simpering was already enough to push the three old men over the edge of annoyance and her grandfather waved a hand. “Fine, fine, as you wish. Ren, I expect you’ll have her things out of the townhouse by nightfall and take care of the troublesome matter of actually wedding her post haste.”

“My domestic staff have already retrieved her things, and the townhouse has been closed up, sir,” Kylo said. “As for the wedding, we will need some time. There are plans to be made, and I would prefer to wait until after the Hosnian Prime merger. No distractions, I’m sure you understand.”

Pryde narrowed his eyes at the three youngest people in the room but didn’t say anything. Snoke’s mouth narrowed, drawing into a thin line and pulling at the scar on his face. He started to speak but was cut off by Palpatine. “Excellent, yes, maintain your focus.” He waved a hand, dismissing them all, and Kylo led her from the room, Hux following at a polite distance. She caught a glimpse of Snoke’s expression and barely managed to suppress a shudder.

They picked up speed as they moved away from the conference room, walking quickly but all trying very diligently not to appear to be fleeing.

That tended to make predators pounce.

They separated at the lift, Hux turning to go to his office and Kylo taking her out of the building.

_Home._

For the first time in her life, Rey was going _home_ , to a house where she thought she might actually belong.

First, though, they had to get out of the building. She maintained her hold on Kylo’s arm, looking up at him and attempting to smile for the security cameras all over the building. They reached the ground floor and headed for the doors, Kylo extricating his arm from her grip and placing his hand at the small of her back, as had become his habit.

She didn’t allow herself to relax until they were safely in the car and on the highway.

“You did well,” Kylo said.

She nodded, staring out the window and trying to focus on her breathing, heart still pounding.

“That man is just so…UGH!”

His lips twitched. “True.” His eyes darted over to her before settling back on the road. “You’ll have to tell me someday, why me and not Hux.”

“Maybe someday,” she said softly, looking out the window with a small smile.

They stayed quiet for a few minutes, neither speaking again until they reached the top of the exit ramp. Kylo cleared his throat as he waited for the signal to change. “Don’t trust him,” he said, looking her way. “Hux. Don’t trust him. He has his own agenda, and I don’t know what it is, but I know as soon as it doesn’t align with whatever is happening, he _will_ turn on you.”

She didn’t argue, just nodded and stared down at her lap.

She’d promised Hux she’d never tell, and she knew he trusted her to keep his secrets, but she also knew Kylo was right. Hux had told her himself that he couldn’t be trusted.

Oddly enough, he’d assured her that Kylo could.

At least where she was concerned.


	8. The Thing That Would End Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo and Rey have their last date before she announces her decision. Later, they celebrate a special day, and Kylo is (as usual) internally conflicted. 
> 
> _“Where were you this afternoon?” she asked softly, staring out across the yard._
> 
> _“I told you, I had to go into the office for a while after the conference call.”_
> 
> _She sighed and finally looked up at him again. “Please don’t lie to me,” she said in a near-whisper. “You never have before, don’t start now.”_
> 
> _His breath caught._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off:
> 
> Y'ALL! Oh my gosh thank you so much for your response and support for this story. It's become one of my most popular and it's still in progress. It's a little intimidating, honestly!
> 
> OK, on to chapter notes:
> 
> CW-As with previous chapters, there is a discussion about conceiving an heir and how that's a term of the marriage. 
> 
> Timeline notes in the end notes.
> 
> And finally: If you've checked out the playlist at all, I have made one change: Track # 11 is now _You_ by Chase Rice (originally _Whisper_ , also by Chase Rice). I think that one fits this story (and specifically this chapter) better, and I have used Whisper in another playlist as well. I try not to duplicate too many tracks from one story to another because it messes with my focus (also, I encourage everyone to listen to all the Chase Rice so there's that...).
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

“It’s called mud-puddling, or just puddling,” Rey said. “I’ve read about it.”

He had…absolutely no idea what she was saying.

“They’re scavengers,” she continued with a grin, “Well, of a sort anyway.” He blinked as one of the butterflies settled on the back of _his_ hand too, like the three or four on Rey. “See, they’re drinking, taking in liquid nutrients and moisture, at the moment from our sweat.” One of the blue winged insects landed in her hair as another fluttered onto her shoulder. She made a face. “They’ll do it with other fluids too, blood…tears... Oh, and decaying bodies.” Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “Animal waste, too,” she added. “It’s all rather disgusting when you think about it, but fascinating just the same.”

He nodded dumbly, captivated by the picture she made. His own little scavenging butterfly, covered in the delicate creatures, more coming to rest on her and sip at her skin as she sat so still, smiling at their surroundings.

Except she wasn’t.

She wasn’t his, maybe wouldn’t ever be and that was a shame, because Hux could never take care of her the way that Kylo could.

He’d keep her safe, give her all the things she’d been denied.

“Rey, I—”

“Kylo—”

She shook her head and gestured. “You go ahead.”

“No, you first.”

She took a breath and swallowed, eyes darting about nervously. The butterflies rose up from her in a cloud as her nervous fidgeting disturbed them, hovering for a moment before dispersing to the flowers in the greenhouse as she stood. “Kylo, I think you should know, I’ve made my decision.”

He was hit with the sudden realization that he _wanted_ her to choose him. Not just for the sake of winning, or even of winning over Hux.

Not for the money or the power or even for the sake of the lust that was a near constant burn between them.

For this, the way she smiled at him, so pleased he was just willing to listen to her. For the way she looked at him, perched on a stone bench in the butterfly garden he’d found for their most recent outing.

They’d had to travel farther than expected, and there had been a chance there wouldn’t _be_ any butterflies so late in the season, but he’d had to try anyway for this date…Their last date before she had to meet with Snoke and Palpatine (and probably Pryde as well, since he always seemed to be there) and tell them whom she was to marry. It was his last chance.

So, yes, he wanted her to choose _him_ , because he wanted _her_ , not her money or her body or her family connections _._ He wanted Rey for her own sake, on her own merit.

It was…terrifying. How could one person have become so important in a matter of weeks?

It was unacceptable. He was Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren didn’t _care_.

He couldn’t.

It was how he was able to get so far in life.

No soft emotions, just anger and control, a harnessed and carefully guided rage.

Not freckles and butterflies and a woman who didn’t belong in this world. His world…it would destroy her.

And he’d been responsible for dragging her into it.

She wouldn’t look at him. Why wouldn’t she look at him?

She would choose Hux. She _should_ choose Hux.

It would be better for all of them, and she was smart enough to realize that. He steeled himself for the inevitable.

He felt a bead of sweat drip from his temple, another roll down his nose. It was ridiculously warm and overly humid in the greenhouse where the tropical flowers and remaining butterflies would hold out a little longer.

A little longer…

Yes, longer. He needed just a little longer.

She bit her lip, staring down where she was wringing her hands in front of her. “I…” she looked up at him, bit her lip again, hesitant and unsure, and looking far younger than he knew her to be. “Kylo, I want it to be you,” she breathed out, “If…if you’re still willing, if you’ll have me. I know…I know what you said, it’s all a business arrangement, but we get on well enough and…well…” she trailed off with a blush, looking anywhere but at him.

It was all he could do to remain standing. He’d been _so_ sure she was about to tell him she was choosing Hux, clearly the better match for her. Less volatile, more stable, less controlling.

Far less baggage.

She stared at him for a moment, and he almost felt her _willing_ him to respond but he couldn’t seem to remember how to form words, only able to stare back at her in his own shocked relief. She looked down and took a shaky breath.

He knelt in front of her, covered her hands with his own. “I’m uh, still willing.”

She cried.

He made her cry.

She kept insisting it was just relief, that they weren’t “bad tears” but…crying.

Rey didn’t cry.

So he did the only thing he could think of, and “gave her a moment” while he pulled the car around. Because the only thing he _wanted_ to do was hold her, and he couldn’t do _that._

He’d barely touched her, no more than holding her hand that first dinner, and catching or steadying her as they walked. It was Rey’s decision, after all, and initiating any kind of intimacy seemed unfair and distasteful, an abuse of power, almost.

Not that she’d made it easy. He’d made the mistake, on their third date, of agreeing when she had suggested he should kiss her good night, claiming it would be a good test of their compatibility, but really he thought it was just a _test_. Weeks later, he still wasn’t certain whether he’d passed or failed.

They started negotiating on the drive back to the city.

“Nothing fancy or ridiculously expensive, and no family heirlooms. This is a business arrangement, and I wouldn’t feel right.”

“Rey, your ring has to suit your station, both as a Palpatine and my wife. I’m VP of operations, possibly someday CEO of _your_ family’s company. I agree about the heirlooms thing, not that I actually have one in my possession, but I’ll be expected to give you something ridiculous and over the top.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window. Kylo sighed. “What if we do two sets? One for formal events and something simple for everyday wear. Still quality, but not so ostentatious.”

She sank down in her seat. “ _Fine_. I still think it’s ridiculous to spend that much. But I get final say on both before you buy them, and you get something simple too.”

He knew that was the best he would get, at least for now. “Okay, so that’s settled. Ceremony?”

“Private. I don’t want strangers staring at me. I’ll get that enough after.”

“Fair point, and I agree, but we will at least need witnesses.”

“And no dress, or not some ridiculous, overly fancy gown anyway. If we’re basically eloping, then something simple…and not white. It gets dirty too easily and whatever I wear I want to be able to get some use from, wear it more than once.”

He felt his lips twitch at her petulant tone. “Fine.”

They remained quiet for a while, until Rey began to fidget, looking at him then turning back to her window.

“What is it, Rey?”

She stared down at her lap, mumbling something he didn’t catch.

“What?”

She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat. “I said, what about…sleeping arrangements? I know we’re expected to…you know…”

“Fuck each other silly, at least until we produce an acceptable heir?”

She huffed and crossed her arms again, hunching in on herself until she was almost curled into a ball in the passenger seat and he felt a stab of _something_ deep inside. Guilt, probably.

“Sorry,” he said softly. She nodded, just a jerk of her chin, and stared out her window again. “I thought you might want your own room, your own space. I wouldn’t…I won’t force you to share mine, or do anything you don’t want, but we’re both adults and you know that children, or at least one child, anyway, that’s part of the agreement. However, we have time, and we’ll move at your pace.”

She let out a shaky exhale and nodded. “What about…after that? Would you want…”

He wasn’t sure what she was asking. “After?”

“After we…after the heir. If you…would you want…would there be someone else?”

“ _No._ ” He realized how harsh he sounded, didn’t even need to see her flinch. He took a breath and tried again. “No, there won’t be anyone else. That would be disrespectful, and quite honestly more trouble than it’s worth.” He paused, glancing over at her as he added, “I expect the same courtesy from you. If it changes your decision, I won’t hold it against you.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t. I…well, I never expected to get married anyway, and I’ve not really met anyone else I—” she gasped, as if only just realizing she was speaking out loud.

He couldn’t help it, he had to know, had to hear it. Had to make her say it.

“Anyone else you what, Rey?”

She covered her face and shook her head. “Nothing, never mind.”

“No, I don’t think so.” She shook her head again. “Tell me.” There was that tone again, gruff and almost threatening. He managed not to visibly wince but it was a near thing. He really needed to be more careful how he spoke to her. Ordering her around and making her think he was threatening her wouldn’t exactly help with the whole respecting each other aspect.

“ _Fine._ There’s not been anyone else I’m attracted to, anyway. I’ve had one lover, but that was more about loneliness and curiosity.” She said the last part in a rush, quicker and quieter with every word. It was for the best. He didn’t exactly enjoy hearing that someone else had touched her.

He was possessive, he could admit that, and he suspected once they were married that would only get worse.

Besides, _she’d_ just admitted she was attracted to him, more so than anyone else. Including Hux.

He’d known it, logically, from the way she responded to the lightest touch of his hand on her back or arm (not to mention the way she’d kissed him back that one time) and, well, it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship having _her_ around, either.

Everything about Rey was perfect.

Well, maybe not her manners, but he kind of enjoyed that. She was strong, intelligent, beautiful, amusing as hell, and she could certainly throw a punch.

So yes, perfect. He just hoped all the pretending to be something she wasn’t wouldn’t destroy her completely.

She was on her balcony. It wasn’t a surprise, really. If she wasn’t in the garden or reading downstairs, he usually found her on the little balcony extending from her room.

“Rey.”

She turned, blinking sleepily up at him from where she was curled on the wicker loveseat, hunched down in her oversized sweater with deep gray leggings and thick socks. She hadn’t been asleep, not quite, but he could tell she’d been getting close to that edge.

She shivered and wrapped her arms around her knees, peering up at him. He grabbed a soft blanket from atop the chest just inside the doorway and tried to drape it around her, but she ducked away and stared up at him, almost accusing him of something with her gaze before she sighed and looked away. She seemed distressed…and angry.

“Rey? What’s wrong?” He was genuinely confused. She’d seemed perfectly content when he left her after his conference call, and they had plans for a late supper together.

“Where were you this afternoon?” she asked softly, staring out across the yard.

“I told you, I had to go into the office for a while after the conference call.”

She sighed and finally looked up at him again. “Please don’t lie to me,” she said in a near-whisper. “You never have before, don’t start now.”

His breath caught.

“You didn’t answer your mobile so I called the office. Security said you hadn’t been in the building since Friday.”

“Rey, I don’t know who you spoke to, or why they’d say that, but I absolutely did go to the office this afternoon. I took the executive elevator from the parking garage to my floor, worked a few hours, and left.” He paused, considering waiting until after dinner as planned, but she was already upset and he needed her to not be. With a sigh he knelt in front of her and gently grasped her chin, forcing her to either look at him or pull free of his (admittedly light) hold. “I admit I didn’t come straight home, but it was because I stopped to pick up a gift.”

It was Rey’s turn to be confused as he produced a small box and flipped it open, revealing a stunning blue butterfly pendant on a delicate gold chain.

“It was meant to be a surprise anniversary gift. I was going to give it to you after dinner.”

“But that’s not for another month,” she said, face still twisted in confusion as she stared at the necklace. He watched as the realization dawned. “The butterfly garden?”

He nodded, almost smiling as she lifted one hand, delicately tracing the jeweled wing. “Two years since you said you picked me. Two years since the first time you set foot in this house.”

“Two years since I found out you spoil your dogs,” she added.

He made a face. “Technically that was later, at least another two weeks.” Even to his own ears he sounded like a petulant child.

Rey laughed. “It was two weeks before I caught you making them Saturday morning breakfast and holding Artoo so the girls didn’t steal his bacon. But that first night was when I found out you had learned German because their trainer spoke it and used all German commands and you didn’t want to confuse them.” He was grateful night had fallen, so that his wife couldn’t see the rising redness in his cheeks. He blushed every time she teased him about the dogs.

She grew serious again, reaching out to take his hand. “I’m sorry, Kylo. I shouldn’t have doubted you. You’ve always been honest with me, even if it was unpleasant.”

Not always, he thought. Not about everything.

His ever-present guilt reared its head, taunting him with the truths he hadn’t told her, wouldn’t tell her.

_Couldn’t._

Including what he’d been doing between the office and the jewelry store.

She shivered again and it drew his focus. “Come on,” he said, holding out a hand to help her up. “You should come back inside. It’s getting cold.”

She accepted his hand, letting him help her up and then stepping forward into him, burrowing her face into his chest. “Already cold,” she mumbled into his shirt front. “Should warm me up. It’s your duty as my husband,” she added, looking up at him with a naughty little grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, hands slipping lower. She paused and her expression twisted into a pout. “No pockets?”

He couldn’t help the chuckle and caught himself just before he returned her smile. “No, no back pockets on these.”

“Oh fine, ruin my fun!”

He felt her hands start roaming again, squeezing as she explored his backside as far as she could reach. “If they don’t meet your approval, I can always get rid of them,” he said, settling his arms around her. He did wonder what had gotten into her, and how he could encourage it in the future. Usually they teased one another but he was the one to initiate any kind of contact. She always seemed to hold herself back from that final, definitive step. “I could take them off right now if you want.”

Her smile came back, full force. “That seems like an excellent plan,” she purred, tilting her chin up expectantly. What did—oh! Right.

He leaned down and kissed her, keeping it light, just to see what she would do. Rey made a pleased little humming sound, stretching up on her toes and sliding her hands into his hair, then sweeping her tongue over the seam of his mouth before sucking his bottom lip and gently biting down with a playful growl.

Kylo settled his hands on her hips and he tensed, shifting to pick her up, but Rey broke the kiss and stepped back. She trailed her hands over his shoulders and down his arms, stopping only when she was holding both of his hands. She backed into her room, tugging him along with her and then turning and pushing him towards her bed.

“Uh, Rey? What are you doing?”

“Attempting to seduce my husband so he forgets the fact that he remembered an important anniversary and I didn’t.” Oh, it physically hurt not to laugh at that, especially when she put her hands on her hips and sighed in exasperation, adding a theatrical eye-roll and turning to glare at the ceiling before she looked back at him again. “I suppose I must try harder. Perhaps some skin will help?” Her tone was playful, matching the cheeky grin she directed his way.

She tugged the baggy sweater off over her head and tossed it over her shoulder, leaving her clad in her leggings, socks, and a delicate lace-trimmed camisole. She put her hands flat on his chest and gave a little push. He dropped onto her bed and leaned back on his elbows as he protested. “But this is _your_ room, your space, we don’t—”

She straddled his thighs and leaned down, cutting him off with a loud, smacking kiss. “Yes, it _is_ my space,” she said as she sat back up. “And right now, I want _you_ in my space.” When she kissed him again, he leaned into it, one hand splayed across her back and the other cupping the back of her neck.

Both of them were breathing hard when they broke apart. “So, your space, your rules, and I suppose—just this once—you get to be in charge,” he said, stroking her lower lip with his thumb. “But I have one request.”

“And what might that be?”

“Wear the necklace.”

She blinked a few times and nodded, eyes dangerously glassy. “Okay. Will you put it on me, then?”

She climbed off of him, allowing him to stand up and retrieve the box from the chest by the door, where he’d dropped it and she turned, lifting her hair off her neck and presenting her back. Kylo draped the chain around her neck, only fumbling a bit with the clasp, and dropped a kiss on her shoulder as the pendant settled just below the hollow of her throat before he stepped back, waiting to see what she would do next.

He was surprised when she turned to face the mirror on her dressing table, fingers coming up to trace the butterfly as she turned side to side, admiring the way the gems caught the light. When she was done, she turned to face him again. “I do love it, Kylo,” she said, closing the space between them in only a few steps. “Now, will you please get on the bed before I change my mind?” He made her push him again, not really resisting but deciding to make her work for it…a little bit, anyway.

She was playful, tugging his clothes away and tossing them in various directions with delighted giggles at his grumbling about creases, teasing and nipping at every newly bared patch of skin.

He was content to let her take the lead, enjoying the fact that she did so. It had taken them quite a while to get to the point that she would _._ Eventually, though, his need for control won out and he flipped them over, getting a startled squeak from Rey and nearly taking them both to the floor. They’d never been in her bed before, and he’d forgotten how much smaller it was than his own.

Rey erupted into a fit of giggles as he caught himself at the last possible instant. “Oh, think it’s funny, then?” he demanded, tone low and dangerous. Her breath caught but he could see in her eyes that she knew he wasn’t actually angry.

She _trusted_ him.

Knew him.

As much as anyone else could, anyway.

Something broke inside him and he buried his face in her hair as he sank back inside her, slow and steady.

He’d forgotten himself again.

After, he waited, knowing she’d fall asleep for a while. Her breathing evened out and he stared down at her, admired the butterfly wings against sun-kissed skin, even so late in the year.

When he was absolutely certain she was asleep, no chance of her knowing, he decided he’d do it.

Just the once.

He shifted, sliding down in the bed and kissed the top her head, took a shaky breath, and gave in to the thing he’d fought for so long.

Lips still against her hair, he tightened his hold on her and whispered the words that were going to change everything.

The proverbial nail in the coffin.

The thing that would end him.

“I love you, Butterfly, so fucking much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter timeline:
> 
> This chapter begins with Rey and Kylo's final date during the six week courtship phase, she announces her choice a bit later, and then we have a time jump to "later that day" i.e. picking back up roughly 2 years into the marriage, the day after chapter 1. Hopefully it's somewhat clear? Maybe?


	9. The Excuse for Touching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey makes a friend (of sorts-does it count when her husband sets her up on a "playdate" with her new sort-of bodyguard), she and Kylo take a risk that could endanger them both, and she makes a discovery that may topple the delicate balance of her life.
> 
> _He ignored her completely, leaning down and lifting her into his arms, much to Bazine’s amusement. “Yeah, I’m gonna go, Rey. Pretty sure you have bigger things to deal with right now.” Rey couldn’t help the laughter that spilled from her as Bazine offered an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and grabbed her bag, digging around for a pair of yoga pants which she tugged on over her own swimsuit. Kylo muttered a string of curses and adjusted his hold on Rey to return Bazine’s rude gesture from earlier._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter count is tentative. Based on what I had planned for this story it's already longer than I expected, though, so it may increase. 
> 
> The angst starts here and the pain will continue, probably for at least a couple of chapters (seriously, between the tags and the playlist that should have been clear).
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

“So how does this work?” Rey asked, sipping at her iced coffee as she looked across the table. “Am I supposed to pretend I don’t know my husband hired you to be my babysitter-slash-bodyguard?”

The woman across from her flashed a brilliant smile and gave her a delighted laugh. “Oh, I told that moron you’d see right through whatever story he gave you,” she said.

Rey gave Bazine a smile of her own. “I think he knew it too,” Rey said. “He didn’t even really try that hard, just said he couldn’t take time off and he’d hired you to drive me today.” She took another sip of the overly sweet coffee drink. “Where exactly _are_ you driving me today, anyway?”

Bazine hesitated, looking all around the outdoor shopping plaza where they’d stopped. “Oh, just, here and there, mostly shopping so you can pick up things you may need.” She glanced around again before leaning forward and sipping at her own drink and muttering a quick, “and you have an off the books appointment with a doctor he trusts.”

Rey stopped herself before she actually said anything.

_Oh._

Well…that certainly explained things.

Dr. Holdo was…not what Rey expected. It wasn’t even the lilac hair that surprised her the most, more how comforting the no nonsense bedside manner was, and the fact that (yet again) Rey thought it seemed the woman had known Kylo a _very_ long time. However, any time Rey tried to bring him up, Dr. Holdo effortlessly changed the subject.

She (well, Bazine) paid cash and Rey left the doctor’s office feeling slightly more in control of her life.

Kylo had brought up the idea a week before they got married, and it had seemed like the most logical thing. After all, they still barely knew one another. It took a while to set things up, all very covert and mysterious. He’d told her he was cautious, that Snoke in particular kept tabs on him, even going so far a few years prior as to have cameras and microphones planted in his house, car, and office.

Which was why he brought in Bazine.

Rey hadn’t met her until the day in question, but she knew the other woman was a private investigator and though he’d only said she could be trusted with this matter, Rey had the distinct impression Kylo considered her a friend…of sorts, anyway.

It had made her very curious to meet the mysterious Bazine Netal.

Meeting her did not disappoint, although Rey _had_ been a bit intimidated. It had been halfway through the day that Rey realized they were actually close to the same height, not that she could be absolutely certain with the heels on Bazine’s boots. It just _felt_ like the other woman towered over her.

Bazine had simply stared at her when Kylo introduced them, expression betraying nothing, but then she’d offered Rey a brilliant smile, a good handshake, and a slightly confusing comment about not charging extra if she’d been told…something.

“Bazine,” Kylo growled, making the other woman laugh.

“I’m engaged, not blind or dead,” she said. “A day in her company certainly won’t be a hardship.” Rey blushed while Kylo rolled his eyes and sighed as Bazine led Rey out the front door and to a sporty little two door red convertible (with the top up, thank goodness—it wasn’t exactly cold but too cool for the top down).

“Not exactly inconspicuous.”

Bazine laughed. “That wasn’t really the point. Assuming the old men have someone watching you—and they probably do—they’ll see two women going shopping in a silly car and think no more of it.” She settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine, settling a pair of designer sunglasses into place before turning to look at Rey over the top of the frames and adding, “Besides, the smaller the car, the easier evasive maneuvers if necessary.” She readjusted the glasses and put the car in gear, cackling in glee as Rey yelped when the vehicle leapt forward, throwing her back against the passenger seat.

They’d started the day with coffees and shopping, traveled out of town for Rey’s appointment, then grabbed a late lunch before Bazine dropped her back at home.

Despite the situation and her usual distrust of strangers, Rey found she genuinely liked Bazine. It helped that Rey trusted Kylo, and her husband trusted Bazine. And Dr. Holdo for that matter.

She rubbed absently at the slight ache at the injection site and hoped both women were worthy of that trust, because she suspected both she and Kylo would be in danger (well, more than they already were), if her grandfather and his cronies caught wind of what they’d done.

Two years of regular appointments with Dr. Holdo and her associates (because it wasn’t safe to keep going back to the same place every time) and Rey had another coming up in a week. It was time to decide if she was going to keep getting the injections.

They still had three years, and she had been assured there were no obvious problems despite years of malnutrition.

But, well, she thought it might not be such a bad thing, to stop waiting.

Besides, Snoke was definitely suspicious.

“Earth to Rey?”

She jerked and turned her head, giving Bazine a sheepish grin. “Sorry, what was that?”

Bazine laughed. “Ugh, you are the worst! I’m the newlywed here, you’ve been married two years now,” Baz said, landing a playful smack on Rey’s arm.

She’d been teasing Rey about the yellowing fingertip shaped bruises and fading love bites littering her body all day.

It was unseasonably warm and Kylo was at work, so Rey had let Bazine talk her into taking advantage of the sun and spending the afternoon by the pool. The marks from the weekend had faded over the past couple of days, but it was still obvious what they were, and the red two piece she’d slipped on did little to hide them.

Bazine had also teased her over the necklace, telling her it clashed with the bikini, and would leave an odd tan line, but Rey couldn’t bear to take it off. It had only been a couple of days since Kylo placed the chain around her neck, but like her rings, she felt naked without it.

It took a great deal of effort, but Rey managed to turn her attention back to her friend-slash-bodyguard for the remaining hours until the daytime staff went home for the evening.

Bazine hadn’t even left yet when Rey looked up to see what was blocking the dwindling rays of sunlight and gasped at Kylo standing there staring at her. Arms crossed, dressed in all black, he looked like some sort of death deity. She shivered and it wasn’t the increasingly chilly air.

“The two of you are insane,” Kylo muttered. Bazine rolled her eyes and made a rude gesture—Rey couldn’t quite tell which one.

“It was nearly eighty today,” Rey said.

“It’s not now,” he pointed out, and she shivered again. He made a noise, low in his throat, and tugged off his suit jacket. “Get your ass up and put this on,” came the gruff order, and Rey thought about arguing but really, it _was_ getting late and she was absolutely certain the jacket would still be warm with his body heat and smell amazing.

Bazine laughed as Rey scrambled up and allowed Kylo to wrap her in the silk lined fine wool. She knew Bazine saw her bury her nose in the lapel and take a deep breath but she couldn’t be bothered to care. Baz was probably the only person in the world Rey trusted as much as her husband.

Which seemed odd.

Bazine had become her best friend, but at heart, she was still an employee. An employee whose primary job was uncovering other people’s secrets. Of course she’d also said more than once that Kylo “pays enough to keep me trustworthy,” hinting that if someone else offered more that might change. But really, Rey didn’t believe she would.

Kylo was very definitely up to his eyeballs in whatever Snoke and her grandfather were always up to—or at least he had been before they allowed him to shift his focus to the strictly legitimate side of their business. The one that was an actual business. Rey didn’t know details about the other side, and she didn’t really want to. ‘Ignorance is bliss’ and all that.

And yet she trusted them both. With her very life.

“Shoes?”

Rey blinked up at Kylo. “Hm?”

“Shoes, Rey, did you have shoes when you came out here?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t.”

“Rey…”

“Kylo, I’m fine, my feet don’t hurt anymore and you make the staff keep everything spotless. There aren’t even stray twigs under the trees.”

He ignored her completely, leaning down and lifting her into his arms, much to Bazine’s amusement. “Yeah, I’m gonna go, Rey. Pretty sure you have bigger things to deal with right now.” Rey couldn’t help the laughter that spilled from her as Bazine offered an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and grabbed her bag, digging around for a pair of yoga pants which she tugged on over her own swimsuit. Kylo muttered a string of curses and adjusted his hold on Rey to return Bazine’s rude gesture from earlier.

“Bye, Baz! Tell Phasma I said hi!” Rey called over Kylo’s shoulder and waved as he stomped over to the patio and carried her in through the glass door off the sunroom. He deposited her on the small wicker loveseat (the twin of the one on her balcony) in what was essentially a glassed-in porch one room over from the kitchen.

“Have you eaten?”

She stared up at him, wondering why he was home before dark and what had him so grumpy. “Baz and I had lunch around two,” she said. “But there’s something keeping warm in the oven, though I can’t recall what.” He nodded and she watched him loosen his tie and open his cuffs—button-style today, his version of business casual—and roll his sleeves back to his elbows. He looked tired—more so than usual, at any rate.

“Are you all right, Kylo?”

“Fine,” he said, sounding anything but. She tried not to flinch and gave him a look that made clear she didn’t believe him. He sighed. “Just tired, and I have a headache. Snoke’s been…”

“Himself?” she offered, rewarded with a weak laugh and nod as her husband gingerly lowered himself into the chair nearest her spot on the loveseat. He always complained he was too big for the furniture in the room and thought he would break it. He rubbed his eyes and stared blankly at the floor for a moment. She shivered again and for once it really was because she was cold. Kylo raised his head (because of course he’d noticed).

“Why don’t you go put on actual clothes and I’ll see what’s in the oven.”

Rey stood, pulling his jacket tighter around her. “Will you bring me a plate upstairs?” she said with a grin, anticipating his wince. He had a thing about food in the bedrooms (well, most food…she’d learned he wasn’t fully opposed to dessert toppings but that was a different sort of meal altogether).

“Rey,” he said, and she cut him off.

“I know, I know. I’ll wear you down one day.” She put a hand on his shoulder and tugged, urging him to lean down enough she could kiss his cheek. “I’ll meet you at the breakfast table,” she whispered, and he gave her another tired nod.

They had a formal dining room, with a large fireplace and dark wood furniture. They both hated it and Rey wasn’t certain it had ever been used—for dining, anyway. The large table was certainly sturdy.

Both preferred to take meals at the small (well, six seats as opposed to double that in the dining room) breakfast table in the kitchen or standing at the island or counter. Actually, _Rey_ preferred to carry her food from room to room, leaving a trail of crumbs Artoo happily snuffled at as he followed her hoping for an actual bite (he usually got it). She only did it when Kylo was out, or when he’d done or said something particularly vexing.

Rey returned to the kitchen in leggings and a black jumper she’d stolen from her husband’s closet months prior, feet still bare, and found him sitting at the table waiting for her. He’d put her plate at the head of the table (he always did that) and taken the seat to her left, his back to the wall and facing the kitchen door.

“You didn’t have to wait,” she said, noting the place settings he’d laid out for each of them hadn’t yet been touched. He shrugged.

Dinner was some sort of chicken casserole and an assortment of sauteed vegetables. Water to drink, no bread (other than the crumb topping on the casserole), and no dessert. It was actually quite delicious, one of her favorite meals ever since the first time the ancient cook had prepared it for her. Rey made happy noises as she ate, savoring every bite for the half-second it took her to chew it roughly twice before swallowing and washing it down with a gulp of the room temperature (her preference) water from her glass.

“You still eat like an animal,” Kylo muttered affectionately, leaning on his hand and watching her. She snorted and shoveled in another mouthful, grinning at him before chewing with her mouth open and smacking her lips. He winced and looked a little green, before rubbing at his brow.

Oh, right. Headache. She’d forgotten.

“Sorry,” she said softly, covering his hand with her own. “You should eat, too. Maybe protein and water will help with the headache.”

He gave a small nod and when she released his hand, he picked up his fork and knife, taking neat, precise bites and chewing carefully, while shooting her a pointed look. His eyes had that shine, though, that look he sometimes got when teasing her. Rey rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her own dinner. He must not be feeling too terrible.

Rey did the clean up when they were done, rinsing the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. At Kylo’s look and attempt to argue she gave him a glare.

Before she had even come back to the kitchen, he’d already filled their plates, portioned out the remaining food into individual containers for Rey’s lunch the next day, handwashed the casserole dish and the sauté pan, and put them away. The cutting board, utensils, and prep bowls the cook had used were in the dishwasher where the cook had left them after rinsing, further proof that her husband was dead on his feet. Normally he pulled those out and washed them too. “This is faster and you’re bloody exhausted. If it’s still bothering you after you get some sleep, you’re welcome to come back down and re-wash them then.” She put the detergent pack in the little container and closed the machine, pressing the button to start a wash cycle.

She took his hand and led him upstairs and to his room. He was too tired to shower, barely even reacted when she helped him out of his clothes and tucked him into his bed. She was set to leave but he tugged at her hand. “Stay? Please? I actually came home early to talk to you,” he mumbled, eyes open but clearly already half-asleep. “Didn’t turn out quite the way I planned,” he said with a grimace, putting a hand on top of his head as if holding his skull in place. Rey switched off the lamp and stretched out beside him, running her fingers through his hair for a moment before lightly massaging his scalp and temples. “Feels nice,” he slurred, leaning into her touch before forcing his eyes open again. There was enough light from outside, between the moon and security lights, that she could just make out the details of his features.

“We do need to talk, though,” he said, shifting in the bed.

“You should sleep first.”

He yawned and winced, presumably at the pain in his head. “When’s your next injection?”

“Next week. Dr. Kalonia this time.”

He made a sound of acknowledgement. “Should talk before then. ‘s important. Snoke…” he trailed off into a soft snore as she kept running her hands through his hair, enjoying having the excuse to touch him just because she wanted to, until eventually she drifted off as well.

She wasn’t sure, at first, what woke her, until she heard it again—a faint buzzing from his nightstand. His mobile vibrated again, the screen lighting up and illuminating the room just that hair too much. Likely it had been the light rather than the vibration that woke her.

Kylo made a sound in his sleep and shifted. A glance at the actual alarm clock on his nightstand told her it had only been a couple of hours since he’d gone to sleep, and she also realized his mobile wasn’t plugged in to the charger. As it went off again, she slipped from the bed and tiptoed around, hoping she could get to it before it woke him. She fumbled for the charging cord and picked up the device, intending to set the do not disturb feature. She glanced absently at the screen and felt ice in her veins.

He had a missed call, voicemail, and a text message, all from a number with a local area code. Not unusual in itself, but the text message preview had still been displayed on the screen.

_7:15_

_Usual Place._

_Can’t wait._

_XOXO <3_

The fucking heart filled her with a combination of despair and possessive rage. She glared down at the screen as she developed a headache of her own, eyes burning and chest tight as a sob built and began to force its way out.

She dropped the device and fled to her room, biting into her fist and closing the door more harshly than she meant to. She practically ran onto the balcony, gasping for air and nearly choking on the sob. She couldn’t let it out, couldn’t cry, because she wouldn’t be able to stop.

He’d promised there wouldn’t be anyone else, gone on about respect and all that rot.

What else had he lied about?

She woke up on the balcony loveseat stiff and shivering in the early morning light, despite the blankets she’d dragged outside after the second round of tears abated.

She could hear the staff moving about their duties, saw the gardeners tending to the beds to get them ready for the fast-approaching winter. She groaned and stumbled to the bathroom, hoping a shower would warm her up. Her face was swollen, eyes still red-rimmed as if she’d continued crying even in her sleep.

She’d known better, known from the beginning, but especially after the recent weeks, she’d let herself start to believe…

No.

She couldn’t think about it. Not right now.

Maybe not ever.

She showered and drank a glass of water, filled straight from the tap (it wasn’t like they didn’t have a whole-house filtration system), then another when she realized how very thirsty she was. After drying off and spending a few minutes hiding from the reality of her life in the steamy bathroom, she wrapped herself into a fluffy robe and marched to the closet, stretching to reach the box on the back of the top shelf. She retrieved the key from where she’d left it, the strand of her own hair and piece clear tape she’d used as a kind of after-the-fact security system still untouched and intact from the last time she’d put it away.

She pulled out the old mobile, a flip phone that (as far as she knew) not even Kylo or Bazine knew she had, and powered it on. She took it out often enough to charge it and check it was still in working order, then packed it back up and put away the key, so the device lit up as it should.

There were a handful of numbers saved, numbers she’d been convinced she would never use.

She selected the first one, knowing he’d contact whoever else he deemed necessary, and put in a short message using the number keys (and missing the convenience of a full, touch screen keyboard).

_I need a favor._

She hit send, then tucked the phone into the very back of her nightstand drawer, knowing she’d get an answer well before Kylo got home for the day.

Especially if he had _plans_ at 7:15.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er...maybe it isn't what it looks like?


	10. The Plea He Wanted to Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo has a meeting, gets cornered by Snoke, and goes home early to talk to Rey.
> 
> _He stepped into the bathroom and was greeted by the sight of his wife, bent over and checking the water temperature as she filled the tub, humming a happy little tune and swaying her hips as she did. If she hadn’t yelped and jumped when she realized he was there he would have believed she was doing it on purpose._
> 
> _“Kylo! I…I thought…well you said we need to talk but I thought, you need to relax some, and I…” she trailed off, looking down at her hands. “Never mind, it was a dumb idea.”_
> 
> _“No, it wasn’t.” Her head snapped up and she watched him as he crossed the room, something like hunger flitting across her face. “It’s absolutely perfect—as long as you join me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, baby talk time. Tags also updated, and there is a pregnant supporting character. Also discussion of Snoke and Palpatine killing or having people killed. These things shouldn't be shocking (I don't think) if you've read this far.
> 
> And yes I upped the chapter count again but still have no idea if that is even close. It may go back down or increase again. There are things that need to happen and these two just keep going all soft with each other.
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

Kylo paused at the closed door, hand raised to knock before he sighed and dropped his arm. It wasn’t unusual for Rey to close the door before she took a morning shower, especially if he wasn’t going to be home for the day. Odd for her to be up so early, but it did sometimes happen if she had plans with Baz or had just had a bad night. She’d certainly put him to bed early, so maybe she’d just gone to sleep too early herself.

He raised his hand again, fingertips brushing over the smooth, dark stained wood before shaking his head at himself and heading for the stairs, absently straightening and tightening his tie as he descended.

“Good morning, sir,” called the elderly man in the kitchen, never turning his attention from the veggie and egg white omelet in the pan.

“Threepio,” Kylo said, the old nickname rolling easily off his tongue as he watched the man carefully. “You really don’t have to keep doing this,” he added.

“Nonsense, your, ah, Master B—Ren,” he said with a grimace, deftly depositing the eggs on a waiting plate before he turned, handing it over. “Most important meal of the day,” the man tutted and moved with a grace that belied his advanced years.

Kylo didn’t bother to ask how the man knew he’d need to leave earlier than usual. There was very little the man didn’t know. “Eat up, sir. Though you may be a grown man, now, it remains imperative that you provide your body the proper nourishment.” He paused from where he’d begun setting out ingredients for what looked like stuffed French toast—doubtless for Rey—and stood with his arms crossed and a piercing stare aimed at his current employer (one of them, anyway). “I dare say it remains more important now.” Kylo looked down, trying to keep his focus fully on his food, and pretended there were no dark circles under his eyes, that he hadn’t lost weight recently, that there was nothing for those penetrating (and maybe a little accusatory) eyes to see.

The man Kylo had simply introduced to Rey over a year prior as ‘the cook’ shook his head and turned back to his preparations, muttering about stubborn children who didn’t know what was good for them.

Kylo forced in another bite, and another, until the plate was cleared, despite the feeling that his entire digestive tract had formed a gigantic knot and was also using itself as a jump rope.

It wasn’t as if his plans for the day differed from any other week since just after he’d married Rey, but recently it had _felt_ different.

Like a betrayal.

Which was ridiculous. He wasn’t doing anything _wrong_ , really.

But he was keeping things from her, and it was maybe starting to eat at him a bit.

He glanced back at the house before heading out of the gate, instinctively looking for Rey even though her room was on the opposite side of the structure.

He made the coffee shop later than he wanted, but still ahead of the 7:15 AM meeting time.

He was fairly certain he hadn’t been followed, but it _was_ a risk, meeting the same place every week, even though they staggered the times (and sometime the days) and usually left via a back door to go somewhere more private.

It was a risk he was willing to take, though, as long as it kept Rey safe—and keeping Snoke’s focus on Kylo helped keep Rey safe. It put others in danger.

Others he could finally admit he still cared about.

But if protecting Rey meant sacrificing them all, he might be willing. Well, maybe not all of them…

He was drawn out of his brooding thoughts by the glint of light off blonde hair as the coffee shop door opened again. He couldn’t stop himself from returning the smile she shot him as she practically waddled over to him and dragged him down for a hug and smacking kiss on the cheek.

“Did you get my—ooh! Yes!” She snatched the warm blueberry muffin from his hand and broke a piece off, making an absolutely obscene noise as she chewed with her eyes closed.

“You eat like an animal, Kay.”

It made him think of Rey. Different woman, hugely different situation, same level of affection. It struck him that if things had gone differently, the two of them could have been friends.

She shrugged and shoved almost half the muffin into her mouth, crumbs spraying him as she said, “I’m pregnant, I get a free pass.” She finished the baked good and looked at him again, something a little sad around her eyes. “You’ve lost weight, and you look like you haven’t been sleeping. Are the headaches back?”

Maker, he’d never been able to hide anything from her.

“Have you told her yet?”

He shook his head.

“Are you going to?”

“Not if I can help it.”

She reached out and took his hand. “Ben—”

“Don’t, Kay. Ben’s gone. That’s not who I am anymore.”

“Yes, it is,” she stubbornly insisted. “And you always will be, no matter what you call yourself.”

They didn’t talk any more after that, and she slipped an envelope across the table before getting another muffin and a bottle of milk to take with her. He watched her leave and felt the same regret he always did when she walked away.

He was hurting her, just like he was hurting Rey, and everyone else for that matter…even himself.

But hurting wasn’t dead, and he needed to keep it that way, even if it meant he caused them all more suffering.

He waited exactly seven minutes before leaving the shop and making the three-block walk to his car with his head down, uttering an absent excuse me when he bumped into a short woman headed the other way.

He managed to avoid Snoke most of the day and pretended to ignore the pointed questions and barbs the old man directed his way when he did end up cornered, desperately fighting for control as his blood ran cold.

He knew.

Somehow, Snoke knew.

“I’d like you to have a choice,” he said. “We get married in a week, and I know we agreed, but there’s time and we barely know each other. I was thinking if…well, if you wanted to take precautions for a while, I think I can arrange it so Snoke and your grandfather won’t find out.”

Rey just stared at him, mostly confused, he thought, but also disappointed and maybe a little hopeful.

“I…when you say precautions…”

“Birth control, Rey, I’m saying if you want to make sure it doesn’t happen before you’re ready, I’ll figure out a way.”

She let out a breath and sagged against the couch, curled into the corner cushions. “I…I thought you were saying you didn’t want…well…”

She was bright red. It was quite fetching.

“Oh, I definitely want…but I told you before—you decide.” He knelt on the floor in front of her and took her hands. “I’m not kidding about this, Rey. Not until you actually say the words, until you tell me you’re done waiting, that you’re ready.”

She took a shaky breath and nodded, seeming relieved.

He needed to say it, needed to be absolutely sure she understood the stakes.

“Snoke…he’s almost supernaturally gifted at finding out secrets, pinpointing weakness, and thwarting his wishes gets people killed, Rey,” he added softly. “Snoke and your grandfather, they don’t accept no, not when they want something. And right now, they want you married and starting a family within the next five years.” She nodded. “So, if we do this, if we manage to pull off getting you to a doctor and keeping it from him, it still puts both of us in very real danger. I _will_ keep you as safe as I can, but—"

“You’re scared of him. Snoke. More than my grandfather.”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“Because your grandfather may give the order, but he won’t get his hands dirty. He’ll have someone else do it, enjoy having that much control over them, which would give us a fighting chance. Snoke won’t take that risk.”

She thought for a moment and tilted her head. “What about Pryde?”

_Oh, his brave, brilliant girl._

“Him I am less sure of. Certainly, he knows things, but I don’t know how actually involved he is, whether he’s hands on or just aware.”

She nodded again, staying quiet. He turned to the side, leaning his head against her knee and she absently ran her fingers through his hair.

As long as they had each other, they weren’t alone in this.

Maybe that could be enough.

After freeing himself from Snoke (well, after Snoke was satisfied he’d made his point and left) Kylo called Threepio to check in, and the old man’s assurances calmed him enough to get to the end of the day, although he still left far earlier than usual. His head was pounding and he just _needed_ to see Rey, to know for a fact she really was okay.

He’d thought it over, and it was possible that Snoke didn’t actually _know_ , but was trying to trip Kylo up by implying he knew rather than suspected that they had intentionally waited.

If it had been Palpatine, Kylo could have spun it, made the logic of it clear, convinced him that Rey needed time, needed to be sure. Hell, he could have probably gotten medical opinions to confirm that was the best option, that Rey needed to focus on her own health first after years of malnutrition and the old man may have bought it. But Snoke…no, there wasn’t any use in trying logic with him.

He was home by 6:30, and Rey stared at him in shock when he entered through the kitchen door, interrupting her lively chat with Threepio. “Ah, welcome home sir, right on time,” the old man said, carrying a heavily laden plate to the table. “It should be suitably cooled by the time you’ve washed up for supper, young master,” he said with a nod, and Kylo was suddenly six years old for a moment, being sent to his rooms to wash up before dinner. He shook his head and almost smiled.

He paused at the foot of the bed long enough to toe off his shoes and drop his briefcase and suit jacket on the end of the mattress, tossing his tie on top after tugging it off as well. He removed the heavy cufflinks in the bathroom, putting them in a dish on the counter for that purpose before rolling up his sleeves.

He hadn’t realized Rey followed him upstairs until she stepped up behind him at the sink when he was washing his hands and splashing water on his face. She slipped her arms around him and pressed her face into his back and…was she crying? He tugged at her arms, loosening them and turning around, needing to see her face. She wouldn’t look at him, head stubbornly down and her hair—loose and wavy, probably his favorite style on her—covered her like a curtain. She was definitely sniffling, though, and he felt a tear drip onto his wrist as he raised his hands to her face, one on each side and his thumbs brushing over her wet cheeks.

“Are you okay? Has something happened?”

She shook her head and sniffed again, but she seemed to be calming. “I…ah, I didn’t sleep well, and you surprised me.” She tilted her head, peering up at him through wet lashes. “What about you? Why are you home so early?”

“Can we…ah, after dinner, maybe? I need to talk to you—privately.”

“Oh, yes, you said, last night, something about Snoke.”

He winced and nodded.

“Right then, come along. Threepio made pot roast.”

Kylo froze, looking down at her. “How did you…I’ve never heard you call him that before.”

Her face scrunched in confusion and she tugged at his hand, answering as they walked back to the staircase. “I thought you knew. I swear I thought I’d heard you call him that, too. He said I should, that it was an old nickname from the children—or maybe grandchildren, I wasn’t too clear—of an old employer, and he’s missed hearing it.”

She didn’t seem to notice that he stumbled when she said it, or if she did, she just chalked it up to the headaches and exhaustion plaguing him of late.

Threepio refused to join them, despite Rey’s best attempts to convince him—including outright begging—and bustled around the kitchen finishing clean up before bidding them goodnight.

He was the last of the staff to leave (just as he was the first to arrive each day) and Kylo once again found himself regretting bringing the man into the mess that was his life, and yet profoundly thankful he was there.

They ate in companionable silence, and Rey cleared their plates and returned to the table with dessert. “Comfort food,” she insisted, depositing the warm berry pie topped with ice cream in front of him. “You’ve barely eaten the past few weeks, and you aren’t sleeping again.”

Kylo tried to pretend he didn’t feel warmed to his toes. He could tell by the texture of the crust and the way the filling was just a hair too sweet that Rey had at least helped make it. She was learning quickly, but still tended to be heavy handed with salt and sugar, and over mix dough. It was still a far cry better than he could do.

Food and touch were her love languages, he knew that, even if he would never admit to even being familiar with the concept of a love language, and it was in the moments and acts like this that he could let himself pretend their marriage was as real as he wanted it to be, that she’d married him because she wanted to spend a lifetime by his side (for some unfathomable reason).

Rey licked her spoon and made a face, muttering about tough pie crust and something about less sugar and more lemon juice next time.

Kylo ate a second piece.

After, she disappeared upstairs while he washed the rest of the dishes, glaring at the running dishwasher because he couldn’t quite justify turning it off mid-cycle to hand wash the contents. He shrugged and headed for the stairs. A long, hot shower before he broke the news to Rey that she needed to cancel her next appointment and stop the birth control injections seemed like a good idea.

He paused in the bedroom doorway, hearing water running and…humming?

He stepped into the bathroom and was greeted by the sight of his wife, bent over and checking the water temperature as she filled the tub, humming a happy little tune and swaying her hips as she did. If she hadn’t yelped and jumped when she realized he was there he would have believed she was doing it on purpose.

“Kylo! I…I thought…well you said we need to talk but I thought, you need to relax some, and I…” she trailed off, looking down at her hands. “Never mind, it was a dumb idea.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Her head snapped up and she watched him as he crossed the room, something like hunger flitting across her face. “It’s absolutely perfect—as long as you join me.”

She relaxed and let him pull her against him, hands coming to rest on his chest. “I think you could convince me,” she said, sliding her hands up to his shoulders and then down his arms, fingers coming to rest just above his elbows, just above his rolled back sleeves.

“Oh? And how, exactly, should I do that, hm?”

She shrugged and grinned up at him. “I have faith you’ll think of something.”

Too adorable.

He kissed her, because she was his wife and he could and he wanted to, and he may have forgotten the water was still running. Fortunately, Rey hadn’t, and she managed to extricate herself from his hold just in time to prevent a minor flood. He worked on the buttons of his shirt as he watched her flit around the bathroom, pulling towels out of the linen cabinet and studying various toiletries before nodding to herself and placing them on the ledge of the tub.

He wadded his shirt into a ball and tossed it into the hamper, just as Rey was darting past. He chuckled when she yelped, pulling the fabric off her head and turning to glare.

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding at all apologetic, as he worked his belt free. She watched him drop it in the floor with one eyebrow raised, as if waiting for him to give in to the impulse to bend down and pick it up.

She might know him a bit too well.

He’d just have to wait until morning.

Assuming he could sleep knowing it was there.

His pants went next, and he sat on the ledge around the tub to remove his socks, not trusting his balance to do it without the support. Not today.

He stood in his black boxer briefs and crossed his arms. “Well? I thought you were joining me.”

Rey crossed her own arms, leaning back against the counter. “You haven’t finished your turn, yet,” she said. “Me joining you implies you get in first.”

“I’m not sure that’s strictly true.”

“Hm…maybe, maybe not. But it is tonight. Now, _off_.”

He shrugged and did as commanded, interested to see where she was going with this.

She waited until he was in the water before turning to the mirror, pulling her hair up into a messy bun and shaking her head a couple of times, apparently checking to see if it was secure. She reached under the hem of her sweater (well, one of his—he was fairly certain there were no sweaters left in his closet) and wiggled as she tugged down her leggings. She turned around and faced him before pulling off the sweater, leaving her in…oh, nothing. Well, that was fast.

He held out a hand to steady her as she climbed into the tub, facing him from the other end. The water sloshed dangerously but didn’t overflow, not even with both of them, and once it settled, she reached over, finger poised above the button for the jets. “Talk first or…?”

He sighed. “I don’t particularly want to but I suppose we should.” She looked at him a moment longer and nodded, moving closer until she was straddling his thighs. She reached out, arms around his neck and his head dropped forward as she started massaging.

“Well, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you as well, so I can go first if you like, let you delay a bit longer.”

He grunted his assent and she laughed, working at the knots in his neck and shoulders another moment before sliding her hands back around to his chest.

“I’ve been thinking a lot recently. It’s been two years next month, and I think it’s time we talk about stopping the injections.” He sucked in a breath and she rushed to continue, seeming to think he was going to argue. “I know we still have three years, and the doctors have all said they don’t foresee any problems, but I can’t help but worry that something will happen, something they couldn’t predict beforehand.”

She bit her lip and looked down.

“I…Rey…that’s kind of a relief.” She met his eyes again, her expression questioning. “It’s just…the reason, well part of the reason I’ve been so stressed lately, it’s…I think Snoke knows, or at least he seems to suspect. I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you to cancel the next appointment.”

She was hesitant, cautious.

“Is that…Kylo, is that the only reason? Because Snoke might have guessed we waited?”

“What? No. It’s not…I mean…I’ve maybe been thinking about it anyway. Like you said, it’s been two years and…well, anyway, Snoke just makes it seem a little more urgent.”

Something changed in her expression, and he realized he may have reddened a bit when he admitted he’d been thinking about it.

The smile she gave him was bright and happy at first, but as she leaned in, it turned almost predatory. “Kylo Ren, are you saying you _want_ to put a baby in me?”

“Maybe.” One of her hands dipped below the water.

_Hell yes._

The possessive part of him, the part that broke a man’s hand for touching her and liked leaving little marks to show the world she was his, that part of him was already howling in pleasure at the thought.

“Ah, you do.” Her hand wrapped around him and stroked from base to tip. “You know, it won’t work quite yet, but we should probably practice. Make sure we get it right.” She raised up on her knees and he grasped her hips.

“Should we get out first?”

She shifted, lowering herself over him. “Hm, I think, as long as we take things slowly to start, we’ll be perfectly fine.”

As usual, his wife was absolutely, one hundred percent correct.

As she slumped against him in the cooling water, hair damp around her shoulders where the bun hadn’t been able to quite withstand the level of vigor, he stroked a hand down her spine and murmured, “Stay with me tonight. Want you close.”

She mumbled her agreement and he closed his eyes, biting back the plea he really wanted to make.

_Stay with me every night, Rey. Never leave my side._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone asks or comes at me with torches and pitchforks, no, KAYDEL'S BABY IS NOT HIS and he is not and never has been sleeping with her.
> 
> And if you were guessing he was meeting Leia, that ALMOST happened, but there are a lot of moving parts here. Think of Kaydel as a go-between.
> 
> And in the next chapter we will find out who Rey contacted and what favor she asked for. The trouble is just beginning.


	11. The Problem of Facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey follows up on the favor she requested.
> 
>  _She nodded once, gathered her jacket and hastily packed handbag, and stood. “You sound just like him, you know, refusing to tell me things for my own good. I trusted that was true, until now at least.” She placed the flip phone on the table, picked up the photo of her husband smiling at the blonde woman and tucked it into her bag. “I used to trust you, too. Now I have to wonder how long you were watching_ me _.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry in advance?
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)
> 
> Yeah, remember how I have been saying it's going to hurt? This is a big part of it. If chapters 11 and 12 have theme songs, they are _I'm Never Getting over You_ and _Pieces._

Less than twenty-four hours after sending her request, Rey called it off. It had been a weak moment, and the guilt had threatened to eat her alive even while she had attempted to distract herself by having the cook show her again how to make a pie, so she’d sent a follow up message while Threepio was preparing pot roast—one of Kylo’s favorites, not that he had ever admitted it.

Then Kylo had come home early, and she hadn’t been able to resist following him upstairs, wrapping her arms around him in a silent apology for something he didn’t even know she’d done. The guilt and self-recrimination had been compounded when he’d been so concerned at her tears, and then taken her vague explanation of poor sleep at face value.

He trusted her.

As far as he knew, she’d never given him cause not to.

She owed him the same. He had his secrets, just like everyone else in the world, and there were things he kept from her, but he’d never _lied_ to her.

She’d spent every night since in his bed, sometimes already asleep when he came home, and most nights he didn’t even wake her, just slipped in beside her and slept better than any other time in his life—or at least that was what he claimed when she mentioned going back to sleeping in her own room if he was uncomfortable.

He’d flatly rejected the idea, and Rey had been all too happy to give in, allowing herself to luxuriate in the pretending that it had always been this way, always would be, that they were married because they _both_ wanted to be together…and that he loved her in return.

It was just over a month before his mobile woke her again.

It had been another of the nights he slept early, but this time he was worn out because she’d kept him otherwise occupied most of the previous two nights, and maybe had been a little distracting after dinner, before he finally passed out diagonally across the bed, nude and snoring and completely forgetting to set his alarm, silence his ringer, or plug in his charger.

She’d frowned at the device as it lit up and began jingling a merry tune—something she vaguely recognized and immediately associated with children. Must have been a default sound. It certainly wasn’t anything she would ever see her husband choosing on purpose.

She hurried around the bed, muffling a curse when she misjudged the distance and smacked her shin against the nightstand in her haste. She bent and grabbed at the quickly forming bruise with one hand, scrabbling blindly at Kylo’s nightstand with the other. It stopped ringing, the call rolling into voicemail.

She only glanced at the screen from a combination of habit and concern that Snoke was trying to summon him back to the office (that had been happening frequently now that her husband was only working ten-to-twelve-hour days rather than sixteen). She’d promised that if he did fall asleep and she heard Snoke calling she would wake him. They couldn’t risk his wrath.

That one glance was enough to tell her it wasn’t Snoke, and she nearly put it down, but the number seemed familiar.

A voicemail notification popped up, followed almost immediately by a text.

The same text as before.

Only this time, the time was different.

13:45 Saturday.

Whoever it was used military time.

Rey dropped the device and shoved the heel of her hand against her mouth, biting down to keep herself from crying out before she turned and practically ran down to the hall to her mostly abandoned bedroom.

She thought for a moment that it wouldn’t come on, that she’d failed to charge it or that it had just randomly died, but just as always, the tiny screen lit up, displaying the date and time before the device settled to the main screen.

The messages came through all at once, startling her enough that she yelped and dropped the mobile on the floor, then had to get down on her hands and knees and feel around blindly under the bed to reclaim it.

She stared at the screen, at the little number indicating six messages. With trembling hands, she managed to press the correct combinations of buttons to open the messages.

She hadn’t checked it since canceling the favor, and the first was simply an acknowledgement and the question, “Are you sure?”

Two hours later had brought _There is something you should see_ and an indicator that a picture message had been received and was downloading.

Then another only moments later.

One more, the following week.

And finally, sent just the previous day: _COME TO ME._

She held her breath and stared in horror as the pictures loaded one by one. They were small, blurred and grainy, but unmistakable.

The middle one loaded first, a blonde woman and Kylo, leaning in close and talking about something in earnest. She couldn’t make out any of the woman’s features, but her hand was on Kylo’s arm, and he didn’t appear to be doing anything about it. Maybe she was a friend? He was allowed friends.

Not that he’d ever mentioned any beyond Bazine and her wife Gwen Phasma, a co-worker of Kylo’s.

The third picture was the next to load, and it was the same woman, wrapped in a big black coat, and straining up on her toes to kiss Kylo’s cheek…and he was bending down to let her. Because of the angle, Rey couldn’t see his face, but the lines by his mouth suggested he was smiling.

It was the first picture that sent physical pain ripping through her. It had loaded slowly, as if the device itself had been loath to reveal the image.

The woman was approaching Kylo, one hand up as if she’d waved to him, and the other resting protectively on her very obvious baby bump. That wasn’t the part that hurt though, the thing that had Rey dropping the phone and running to the bathroom to vomit up the remains of her dinner.

No, it wasn’t the obvious affection and easy intimacy, or the fact that Kylo had clearly been waiting with food for the woman, or even that he’d allowed her to touch him.

No, the final image was worse, so much worse.

Because her dour, stoic, constantly angry looking husband—was _smiling_ at the woman, beaming in a way that transformed his entire face, made him into a different person.

Never once in the entire time she’d known him had he looked at her that way.

Rey hadn’t realized he even _could_ look like that.

When she recovered enough to move, she returned to the bedroom and picked up the device again, angrily punching buttons to enter her reply.

The response was nearly immediate, and Rey went blindly to the closet, pushing things back, jerking others down, until she had what she was looking for.

By the time she dressed, the car was on its way, and she slipped silently down the stairs to wait.

Rey crouched down by the old fence, panting for breath and wincing at the scrapes and bruises. They were close, the Teedo brothers, but she didn’t think they’d seen which way she’d gone and they were too broad and soft to get back to her before she could get over the fence. Where she’d been able to slip between the precariously piled scrap metal and junk parts, they would have to move at least some of it to get to her.

It was something of a miracle, really, that she had made it to seventeen before they tried anything, although she knew that was mostly due to Plutt. He’d made it very clear to his ‘employees’ that they weren’t to lay a hand on Rey. His ‘meal ticket,’ he called her, not that she knew why. She wasn’t officially in the Care system, so he couldn’t get any government funds for housing her. He loved using that information against her, really. It was his excuse for why she never got new clothes, or enough food, or half the supplies she needed for school. He used it as justification for making her work for him with little to no pay.

But he’d never actually harmed her (not physically at least) and he hadn’t let anyone else either.

She heard a grunt and movement as the three brothers shuffled past, arguing over whether she was even still in the scrap yard at all, and what story they were going to tell Plutt.

Rey held her breath, counted to ten, and crept back to the little path through the junk piles, glancing about to ensure the coast was clear before darting back the way she came, headed for the exit and the alley that would deposit her back onto the street (not that there would be help there, but she could move faster, put more distance between them, without the piles of junk).

She ducked into the old, abandoned shop front where she sometimes hid, not realizing it was no longer abandoned until she heard the voice.

“Are you alright, miss?”

Rey yelped and spun around, hand pressed over her wildly beating heart.

“I…I’m so sorry…sorry…chasing me…abandoned…” she babbled in between gasps.

The man stayed on the opposite side of the room, calm and quiet, but his eyes seemed cut straight through her. “Who was chasing you?”

Rey shook her head. “No one, just…some idiots from work.”

“Jyn,” the man called softly, over his shoulder, and Rey heard someone moving in the old stock room as he turned back to her. “You’re safe here, if you wish to stay a bit. Or we can call someone for you.”

A woman appeared in the doorway beside him, short but with a commanding presence. “Oh, hello,” she said. “We aren’t open for business yet,” she said with a soft smile. Teasing, Rey realized, making a friendly joke to put her at ease.

“I can…I should go,” Rey said, then yelped and jumped again at thundering footsteps and angry voices barreling past the blacked-out windows.

“I think perhaps you should stay here for a bit,” the woman—presumably Jyn—said. “I’ve just made some tea. Would you like a cup?” She paused, eyes taking in Rey’s appearance, and tacked on, “Perhaps some biscuits as well.”

Rey opened her mouth to make her excuses and apologize again, but somehow found herself agreeing.

Their names were Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso, and they were opening a private investigation firm. Both admitted they were former military, but Rey had the impression there was more to it than that. Ranking officers maybe, and possibly involved in intelligence.

She didn’t question the story, though.

No one in this part of the city was quite who they claimed, and it wasn’t ever a good idea to ask questions.

But she liked them, trusted them somehow, even though she’d never really trusted anyone.

In the little free time she had, Rey helped them make repairs to the shop and convert it into a set of offices on the lower level, and restore the living quarters on the top floor. Jyn spotted Rey’s mechanical acuity and started giving her small jobs to repair things, or help them gather parts and supplies for surveillance, and even general cleaning services.

They paid her cash, more than they should have, but Rey chose not to think of it as charity.

Somehow, she ended up spending more time working for Jyn and Cassian than for Plutt, and she didn’t know what they had said to her ‘guardian’ to make that happen but he never said a word.

Eventually they moved to a new location, even offering to bring Rey on as an employee out of the office they were leaving, and she really did consider it, but in the end, she just couldn’t see herself following cheating spouses around with a camera for the rest of her life.

Not that they only did that. Rarely, in fact.

Actually, Rey had never seen a client come or go, in all the time she spent around them, and the phones were always suspiciously quiet for a thriving detective agency.

But she didn’t question it, well aware that she didn’t really want to know whatever they were actually doing.

They popped by fairly often, always when Plutt was out, checking on her and bringing food or small gifts.

It was the closest thing Rey ever had to friends or family, and sometimes she couldn’t help thinking that if only they had found her earlier, maybe it could have been real.

One of the last times she saw them, Cassian had pressed the flip phone into her hand, insisting that she text or call, “If you ever need us.”

A week later Kylo and Hux had shown up and swept her away.

Rey frowned down at her hands, twisting her fingers in her lap. She’d brought the flip phone with her but left the fancy mobile Kylo had given her behind. She kept opening it up, going back to those blasted photos as if they might change. The battery charge was already down to just over fifty percent.

It didn’t matter.

Cassian and Jyn were the only ones with the number, and she’d be seeing at least one of them in…seven minutes.

And she didn’t particularly want to see or speak to her husband at the moment.

The car service dropped her across the street, and she cut across and ducked down the alley, the back door swinging open as she reached it.

There was no greeting, no preamble, before Cassian dumped a large envelope out on a folding table. Her eyes widened at the sheer volume of pictures. “We were already watching him, Rey.” Cassian’s voice was hard, angry.

“What? Why?”

“Because he’s married to you,” Jyn said, just suddenly appearing from somewhere behind Cassian. “Because we don’t trust him.”

“I do,” Rey insisted stubbornly, eyes flicking down at the pictures and then away again as she crossed her arms and corrected herself. “I _did._ ”

Cassian fanned out the photos, pointing to a few specific shots. “She’s not the only one he meets,” he said with an angry gesture.

“That’s Hux and Phasma, they all work together,” Rey said, pushing one picture back across the table. “ _This_ is Bazine, Phasma’s wife and my friend. Well, technically I think she’s still my bodyguard, because he’s still paying her for that, but we’re friends too.”

“And her?”

The blonde.

The only one he smiled at.

“I don’t know,” Rey said softly. “She’s the only one I don’t know.”

“No, she isn’t,” Jyn said, thumbing through a stack of smaller prints and handing them over.

Rey sighed. “That’s the Judge who married us,” she said, tapping the first picture. “And _that_ is Maz, the owner of the bed and breakfast where we spent our honeymoon.”

Jyn hissed and Cassian muttered a string of curses in Spanish. “Rey, _Princesa,_ do you know who you married? Or _where_?”

Another stack of pictures.

The border crossing from Exegol into Coruscant, pictures of the Corellian Embassy in Coruscant's capital city of Chandrila—a simple building that Rey knew looked like an old courthouse on the inside.

A series of photos of Kylo handing off or receiving packages, and several more of him accompanied by men she recognized as First Order Security.

Pictures of the blonde woman leading a grinning Kylo by the hand into the lobby of a hotel…clearly not yet pregnant.

Rey took a shaky breath. “Apparently not.”

“What do you know about your grandfather? About Snoke?”

“Only enough to know they’re dangerous and I don’t want to risk knowing more.”

Cassian let out a breath and nodded. “Good, that’s good.”

She stared blankly at the table with its piles of pictures and documents. “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you been watching him, Cassian? And for whom? These pictures…some of them are clearly taken before I ever even met him.”

“I can not answer this, Rey. Do not ask again.”

She nodded once, gathered her jacket and hastily packed handbag, and stood. “You sound just like him, you know, refusing to tell me things for my own good. I trusted that was true, until now at least.” She placed the flip phone on the table, picked up the photo of her husband smiling at the blonde woman and tucked it into her bag. “I used to trust you, too. Now I have to wonder how long you were watching _me_.”

They didn’t come after her, and that was yet another wound.

She never had been enough. Not for anyone.

She had to walk for nearly an hour before finding a taxi, thankful she’d grabbed enough cash to pay the driver and add an extravagant tip in appreciation for his discretion, and then had to make the long trek down the private drive when she got home because the taxi couldn’t go any farther in thanks to the various security systems and protocols.

It gave her time to think, though, and plan.

There was one more person she could contact, one more who had his own reasons for not running straight to her husband or her grandfather to tattle on her…or whoever else had been paying Cassian and Jyn to pretend to care about her for nearly a decade.

By the time she reached the door and put her key in the lock, she was resolved.

She was leaving—tomorrow, if possible.

It hadn’t been possible. Not immediately.

In fact, it took almost a week of secret calls and texts from the second burner phone, the one she had purchased herself during an outing with Bazine and somehow managed to keep the other woman from knowing.

At least she was pretty sure…

Either way, the day arrived. The staff had been given a half day off, except for Threepio who stubbornly refused to leave early, and Kylo was going to be working late.

When the car arrived, Rey entered the necessary codes to open the gates and shouldered her bag before dragging two suitcases behind her, ignoring Threepio’s protests from behind her.

She heard Threepio answer the call from Kylo, the one she had expected as soon as he got the alert that the security systems had been deactivated. She opened the front door and handed her bags to the two men waiting for her before turning to go back inside for the last time. She walked down the hall, past the home office and the library and the sunroom, and stepped into the kitchen, where she calmly placed the photo of Kylo smiling at the blonde woman on the island countertop, depositing her rings and the butterfly necklace on top of it.

“My lady, please, you do not have all of the facts,” Threepio tried.

“I know,” she said gently, kissing his wrinkled cheek and patting his hand. “That’s the problem.” She started to step away, then turned back, adding, “Take care of him, Threepio. He needs it. He likes to pretend he doesn’t but…” she trailed off with a shrug and a headshake.

“Mistress Rey,” the man began, interrupted by the kitchen door slamming open.

“Kylo!”

He stormed across the room, and she could almost believe it was because he desperately wanted her, that he would beg her to stay and that something would magically change and he could tell her all his secrets.

That she could do the same.

He didn’t though. In fact, he didn’t speak at all, just grabbed her face in both hands and kissed her, far more gently than she expected, and she tasted tears, but she wasn’t crying. He reached out, fumbling at the countertop before turning and practically dragging her out the door and to the waiting car.

“They can keep you safe, Rey, but you have to let them,” he said, grabbing at her hand and shoving her rings back onto her finger before one more desperate, wet kiss. “Stay alive, Rey,” he whispered, before nearly shoving her into the back seat of the car and pressing the necklace into her hand. Just before the door closed, he muttered a hasty, “The woman in the picture—she’s my sister. You can trust her.”

The car was already moving when she heard him yell at the man in the front passenger seat, “You keep her safe, Dameron, or I’ll kill you myself!”

It hit her as they exited the drive and the car sped away with a bark of tires.

He loved her…Kylo loved her.

Her husband _loved_ her.

“FINN! STOP! TAKE ME BACK! I HAVE TO GO BACK!”

The man in the passenger seat, the one Finn had introduced as his fiancé Poe, turned to face her. “We can’t.”

“NO! TURN AROUND! OR JUST STOP AND LET ME OUT!” She pulled at the door handles, desperate enough to jump out of the moving vehicle, but they wouldn’t open.

“I’m sorry, Rey, I really am, but you can’t stay here,” Finn said, pressing the accelerator to the floor.

She wailed, and cursed, and screamed, but she didn’t cry.

Not until three days later, when Threepio showed up with more of her things, Artoo, and Bibi. He gave her a weak smile and handed her a note from Kylo asking her to keep the guard dog and/or Threepio with her at all times, and to treat Poe the same way she did Hux—trust him, but only to a point.

He hadn’t signed the note.

He’d drawn a heart, and a butterfly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just...yeah. That scene, that moment in the kitchen with the kiss, and then the rings? That moment has been a long time coming.
> 
> Who guessed Cassian for the person she contacted for a favor? No one? Yeah, me neither... That was originally supposed to be Finn, Poe, or Luke, but that wouldn't have worked out the way I needed so...anyway, yeah, hang in there. It's gonna hurt a bit for a couple of chapters, but happy ending...eventually.


	12. The Broken Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo discovers why Snoke, Pryde, and Palpatine were so insistent Rey get married, and then he and Rey have to get used to living apart.
> 
> _He stared at the ceiling, wincing and jerking away when Artoo realized he was awake and began whining and snuffling against his ear. He moved and raised a hand when the ancient pug began whimpering and licking his face, finally sitting up and pulling the furry body into his lap, absently scratching at the dog’s ears. Ellie and Kira whined as well, heads coming to rest on either of his knees as Bibi growled at him from the foot of the bed before turning her back and flopping onto the floor with a huff._
> 
> _“I know, I miss her too,” he muttered._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one hurts too. There is crying, and moping, and dogs refusing to eat, and a rather angry Rey.
> 
> We're close to the end, though. Still not sure the chapter count is completely accurate but it's definitely close.
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

Kylo blinked and stared down at the documents again.

_Impossible._

And yet there it was, in print.

This was it, the missing piece. He knew, now, what the old men were doing, _why_ they wanted Rey married with a child, and why the timeframe.

He’d played right into their hands, thinking he’d been so smart, so _careful_ , believing he had stayed a few steps ahead at all times, but they had been _miles_ ahead from the beginning.

He tucked the papers and phone into his pocket and grabbed his briefcase, not even bothering to log out of his desktop as he stormed out the door, pulling a second phone from his jacket and scrolling desperately for the contact he hadn’t used in years, finding it as he stepped into the elevator. He heard his assistant calling after him but didn’t bother to turn back.

She’d cancel and reschedule his meetings and make his excuses. It was part of why she was so well-paid.

His thumb hovered over the number displayed on the screen, ready to make the call, but not yet, not until he was out of the building.

_Out of the building._

Yes. He patted at his jacket pocket again. The papers, the digital file, the phone itself, he needed to get them _away_ from the office.

Rey’s life might depend on it.

Never mind about his own. It was too late for him, especially now that he knew the truth.

He abandoned the idea of calling the old number, no time for that to be any help. Threepio, he’d call home and warn Threepio. The man didn’t go anywhere unarmed, and he adored Rey.

Mind made up, Kylo exited the parking garage and drove the complicated route to switch out cars. He didn’t have time, not really, but it was more important than ever that he take the extra precaution.

Snoke had started up again, planting cameras and microphones and transmitters in Kylo’s office, his cars, he’d even found a tracker on his _coat_ about a month ago, something Snoke hadn’t utilized before. So far, the house had been clean, but only because Kylo had never given up on weekly sweeps of the entire property.

After swapping for another car—this one certified clean by one of the only people he trusted to do it—he raced home faster than was legal or safe, but far slower than he wanted, calling Threepio on the secured phone he’d been using with increasing frequency.

He didn’t catch everything the man said, too caught up in trying to get there, get to Rey, and the thundering of his own pulse.

One word though, set off a whirlwind of emotions.

Possessive rage.

More fear.

Despair.

And a relieved sort of desperate hope.

_Extraction._

They were coming for her. She was _leaving_ him.

But she’d be safe.

He shifted gears and pressed the accelerator as far down as it would go. He needed to get there first.

He got the alert only moments before he reached the drive and called Threepio back. He didn’t give the man a chance to even speak, just demanding, “Is she still there? Stall her. I’m 30 seconds away. Don’t let them take her before I get there.”

He didn’t even register getting out of the car, didn’t bother closing the door. One moment he was in the car, the next he’d thrown open the door and she was there, staring at him in shock.

“Kylo!”

Some part of him registered the jewelry and the picture, but he didn’t pause, never tried to explain. Dameron was waiting, and Finn, and with the way he’d left the office there was no doubt someone on Snoke’s payroll would be arriving soon.

She had to be gone before that.

His vision blurred and his eyes burned as he reached out, cupped her face and kissed her goodbye. There was no time for words, no time for all the things he should have made sure she knew, no time for kissing either, really, but he couldn’t stop himself. He reached out blindly, fumbling for her necklace and rings, and fairly sure he only managed because Threepio helpfully moved them within his reach.

He could see it, _feel_ it, her hesitation. She was going to stay, because he’d been weak, and she’d seen it, felt and tasted the first tears to escape him in…he wasn’t even sure.

He felt his phone vibrate, heard the chirp of the perimeter sensors.

She had to go, _now._

He tightened his fist around her jewelry, relishing the way the edges threatened to puncture his skin. His other hand locked around her arm, practically dragging her out the door when she tried to resist. She’d have a bruise, one more sin in his never-ending list, one more thing for which he could never atone.

He didn’t slow, didn’t ease his hold until they reached the car, and then he fumbled, grabbing her hand and putting the rings back on her finger, where they belonged. “They can keep you safe, Rey, but you have to let them.” He kissed her again, one last time, desperate for absolution she didn’t know to give.

“Stay alive, Rey.” He pushed and prodded, forcing her into the back seat and grabbed the door, glancing at the men in the front before telling her, because she needed to know. “The woman in the picture—she’s my sister. You can trust her.” He slammed the door and Finn had it moving almost before the latch caught. He heard the locks engage and glared at the passenger. “You keep her safe, Dameron, or I’ll kill you myself!”

It seemed impossibly fast and yet forever before the car disappeared around the first curve of the drive, and he sagged when it was out of sight, falling to his knees in the loose gravel.

When a bone is broken and not reset properly, it heals wrong, has to be rebroken and set again, in some attempt at recovering even part of what once was.

Snoke had shattered him, bent and twisted the pieces into something unrecognizable.

Then Rey came along and shattered Kylo Ren, piecing him back together with bits of the man he once could have been, and filling the gaps with herself.

He could feel again, and it burned, but it was okay, he would endure the pain, welcome it event, and let himself burn for her.

Always for her.

Kylo wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, on his knees in the driveway, hands over his face as he struggled to breathe, but when Threepio came out and lowered his aging body to the ground, tentatively reaching out, Kylo all but collapsed, letting the man hold him as he shook and sobbed and gasped his pain.

When he had nothing left, curled in on himself and barely able to see through swollen eyelids, he raised his head and really looked at this man who had been the third to hold him the day he was born, after his parents but before even his uncle. “Thank you,” Kylo managed, unable to express just how much he was thankful _for_ , but knowing Threepio understood, nevertheless.

“It is, as always, my pleasure to care for you…young Master Ben.” The man shifted. “Now then, sir, I did take the liberty to release the dogs and activate the next level of security. No one has managed the access the grounds, and I fear there are a few vehicles just past the gates in need of assistance from the automobile club. It seems someone put a tack strip in the road. Pity, they’ll never make their destination in time, now.” Threepio shifted again. “I must admit, sir, that my aged bones are unappreciative of the current accommodations, and I fear I must request your assistance in rising, inappropriate though it may be.”

He didn’t know where it came from, by Kylo managed a weak laugh and managed to stand with creaking joints and a groan of his own before reaching out to help the older man to his feet. “Come along, young master, you should eat, and sleep, and then we have plans to discuss.”

He didn’t argue, just let someone else take care of him, trusting Threepio to hold off the coming apocalypse for a few hours.

He woke in Rey’s bed to a jumble of furry bodies half on top of him, and Artoo’s wheezing snores in his ear. He wasn’t exactly refreshed or restored, and the pain certainly hadn’t dulled, but he could think again, at least to a point.

He stared at the ceiling, wincing and jerking away when Artoo realized he was awake and began whining and snuffling against his ear. He moved and raised a hand when the ancient pug began whimpering and licking his face, finally sitting up and pulling the furry body into his lap, absently scratching at the dog’s ears. Ellie and Kira whined as well, heads coming to rest on either of his knees as Bibi growled at him from the foot of the bed before turning her back and flopping onto the floor with a huff.

“I know, I miss her too,” he muttered.

“It will take a few days, to prepare,” Threepio said, obviously still displeased with what Kylo had decided, but he’d given up arguing against it when Kylo had insisted that if he couldn’t go to Rey himself, there was no one else he trusted more with her safety.

Besides, he didn’t want Threepio in the crosshairs, and he would be should he stay on where he was.

“Make the necessary arrangements, and plan to take Artoo and Bibi with you. They should…I want them to be with Rey.” He cleared his throat and looked away. All the dogs were mourning Rey’s absence, but Artoo and Bibi spent most of their time in her room, and they wouldn’t eat—not even when he’d taken a plate of roasted chicken, pot roast, and crispy bacon into her bedroom for them.

Of course, Kylo wasn’t really eating either.

Nor was he sleeping, at least not until exhaustion took him for two or three fitful hours.

He’d even tried sleeping in her bed again, but that just made him miss her more. She was safe though, well as safe as she could be, across the border and under guard. His sister-in-law had called to confirm it, and then in the next breath informed him that Kay was in labor and his nephew would enter the world shortly, and they were naming him Benjamin, so there, ha.

She hung up on him before he could reply.

That woman was a spitfire. He couldn’t wait for Rey to meet her and Kaydel.

Not that he would see it.

He’d thought he had a week at most, but over a month passed with no action from Snoke or Palpatine. Hux still took the occasional weekend away. Paperwork came in and out of his inbox. The board met and voted on…something…he probably should have paid more attention but he couldn’t seem to care, consumed only with figuring out how to stop the scheming and protect his wife.

It was a surprise when the secured phone rang with a number he didn’t recognize. It was a shock to hear her (extremely irritated) voice on the other end.

“If I can figure out a way out of here, I am going to murder you in your sleep,” she bellowed. “No, not in your sleep. Forget that part. I want you bloody awake and begging! I’m a prisoner here, and I want to come home—where I can reach you and kick your arse!” She practically growled the last part and his heart stuttered.

He surprised them both when he laughed, following up with a heartfelt, “Maker, I miss you, Butterfly.”

She gasped, and he realized it was the first time he’d actually said it to her. He’d slipped a time or two with Sweetheart, but she’d never actually heard him call her Butterfly.

It only took her a moment to recover, and she was a little flustered when she uttered a breathy, “I miss you, too. Kylo I—”

“Don’t Rey. Please don’t. It’s not safe for you here and I’m not strong enough to…just, please don’t.”

“All right, fine then.”

She was vexed with him. Vexed. That was the word she used most often when he was particularly irritating. He could just imagine the sheer volume of crumbs that would be in her sheets later when she ate cookies in bed in retaliation.

Except she probably wouldn’t do that. No point wasting the crumbs, when he wasn’t there to see it or complain.

He sighed, struck with a nearly overpowering longing to see her, hold her, just to reassure himself she was whole. It was stupid, dangerous…and he was going to do it anyway.

“Rey? I could…there might be…you can’t come home, but what if we could meet somewhere?” He heard the hitch in her breathing, and it was answer enough. “Is Threepio still awake? Give him your phone.”

She didn’t question him, didn’t argue, and he listened to the soft rustling sounds of her moving about the house. A floorboard creaked, and he could _see_ the corner as she turned, waited for the squeak of the library door, listened to the crackle of the fire and the peculiar way it echoed in that particular room.

He hadn’t realized he remembered all of that, until he heard it and could identify every small sound. Based on the time it took her to reach the library, they must have put her in his old rooms.

He wondered if she’d found the escape tunnel yet.

That would certainly make things easier if they were really going to go through with this.

The room was plain, worn, but clean enough, and somewhere no one would find him—he hoped. The wait had been interminable.

Two days. Two entire days—and nights.

But it had been necessary.

There was a noise at the door, a beep and a clicking sound and then it was opening, and she was there and he couldn’t remember how to _breathe_.

Say something…he should say something, tell her he’d missed her, she was beautiful. Maybe actually tell her he loved her while she was awake to hear it.

She didn’t give him a chance, locking the door and practically launching herself at him.

“You great, bloody idiot,” Rey muttered, practically climbing him when he apparently failed to lift her into his arms quickly enough for her liking. She kissed him, quick and wet and rough, and locked her legs around his waist. “So, fucking stupid, I was so stupid,” she continued, fists closing in his hair and using the grip to angle his head the way she wanted.

“Why would you let me leave?” she demanded, thrusting her tongue into his mouth without giving him a chance to answer or react. “I thought you didn’t _care_ ,” she hissed, leaning in to bite his lip. “I thought you could never love me like I love you.”

Her fingers released his hair, trailed down and scrabbled at his shirt, tugging it free and heedless of the buttons popping free. She was already biting and sucking at his neck, marking him like a feral little animal, when her words filtered through the haze of his mind and he nearly dropped her, barely managing to shift his hold and sit down.

He grasped her shoulders, pulling her away from him despite the protests of his entire body. “Say it again,” he demanded, and she grinned. He knew what was coming.

“You great, bloody idiot,” she said, punctuating it with another press of lips. “I love you,” (kiss), “My great,” (kiss), “bloody idiot.”

He took control of the next kiss, lips and tongue stroking and coaxing, hands holding her head and neck at the perfect angle as she squirmed and writhed in his lap. She was panting, pupils blown wide, when he pulled back, and he ran a thumb over her bottom lip, groaning when she nipped at it and then opened her mouth, sucking the digit in and stroking her tongue over his skin.

“I love you, Rey, probably from the first time you hit me, even though I didn’t realize it at the time.”

She released his thumb with a pop, lips staying open in a little o of surprise. It took a moment, and then she recovered herself enough to deliver a stinging slap to his chest. “Oh, bloody, fucking hell! Why not just tell me, or at least show it? How could you let me leave?”

“How could I _not_?”

Her head dropped to his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around as much of her as he could, letting his eyes close and basking in the single, stolen moment he’d selfishly risked them both for.

“How long do we have?” she asked softly, breath tickling along the skin of his neck.

“A few hours, at best.” He felt the brush of her hair against his skin as she nodded, then lifted her head. She cupped his face in her hands, thumbs absently stroking his cheek bones as she just looked at him for a moment, before leaning in and lightly kissing the end of his nose and pressing her forehead against his with a sigh.

It only lasted a moment, and he stared in confusion as she slid off his lap. Was she leaving already? It was the safest option, he knew it logically, but he wanted her to stay, wanted to curl himself around her in the too-firm bed that smelled like cheap fabric softener and bleach, and never move again. It took him longer than he cared to admit to process what she was doing as she shrugged out of her jacket and dropped it to the floor before bending down to unzip her boots. “Well, come on then, you just said we only have a few hours, and I’d like to spend as much of that time as possible naked.” She tugged off her boots and gave him a pointed look. “Strip.”

He laughed. In the midst of their world collapsing around them, his wife had him laughing, and he didn’t fight the smile that stayed on his face after, the one that put lines around his eyes and mouth. Rey looked up from her boots and stumbled, would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her. His face smoothed in concern and she reached out. “Do it again,” she ordered, softening then, and adding, “Please, Kylo, smile at me again.”

He didn’t have to force it, his lips curling in natural reaction to her. His Rey.

It felt good, not to have to hide it, to fight against any expression at all.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see it,” she said softly, eyes shining with what looked suspiciously like tears. “I didn’t think you would ever look at me like that, ever let me see you smile.” He leaned into her hand against his face, turning to kiss her palm as his hands moved from her hips, where he’d been steadying her, sliding up and under his sweater, the one that she had claimed first and wore most often. Her favorite, and therefore his as well.

She gave him a happy sigh when his hands found her breasts, bare beneath the black material, and he thumbed her nipples for a moment, before pulling his hands away, moving back down to the hem to tug it up and over her head. She helped, finishing the motion so he could move his attention to her newly bared skin as his hands tugged at her leggings and underwear. He explored her breasts with lips and tongue, reacquainting himself with the spots that got the breathiest sighs, as she stepped out of the leggings and his hand trailed unerringly between her legs.

It took him by surprise when she shoved him back on the bed and climbed over him, hands already tugging at his belt. “No time for slow, I don’t want slow,” she muttered, turning her attention to tugging his zipper down and then gripping him firmly in her hot little hand. “Don’t hold back, please,” she muttered, moving to crawl off of him.

He knew what she was doing, knew she was planning to move to her hands and knees because that was usually how he positioned her, to keep her from seeing him, and it had become second nature. He surged up, grasping her hips and holding her in place as he kissed her. “No. Not this time,” he muttered against her lips. “Want you to look at me.” She shivered in his arms, just at that, and he thought she was going to get teary again but she just nodded.

“Okay, yes, okay,” she muttered, shifting back over him. His pants were barely down to his thighs, his shirt still mostly on, but the urgency from when she had first arrived was back and he winced in sympathy when she pushed herself down onto him in one go. It had to hurt, and sure enough she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing for a moment. “Don’t move, not yet,” she begged, “Just, I need a moment.” She gave a small, tentative roll of her hips over him, then another, and finally nodded at him, not looking away as he shifted his hold, helping lift her up and then slam back down, over and over again. It was going to be over too fast, embarrassingly so, and yet neither of them really seemed to care, just desperate for the force of it, the connection between them.

He wasn’t sure which of them shouted it the loudest, but their mingled ‘I love you’s’ echoed around the tiny motel room as she collapsed onto his chest. Someone shouted from the next room over that they didn’t care, and Rey giggled as he kissed the top of her head.

Another, much slower round and a lukewarm shower later, he had to let her leave, watch her walk away from him again.

Somehow, it was even harder this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, Kylo knows what the old boys are up to, but he didn't tell Rey, and I didn't tell you. YET.


	13. The Lost Heiress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's a little lost without Kylo-or any other company-until some unexpected visitors drop in and she suddenly finds herself overwhelmed.
> 
> _They seemed to realize she was there and immediately straightened and smiled. The woman—Rose, presumably—held up a hand and waggled her fingers. “Hi! Sorry! Hope we didn’t scare you too badly! The latch was stuck and this guy insisted it was on the other side.”_
> 
> _“Who are you and what the bloody devil are you doing in my closet?”_
> 
> _Rose stepped into the room, practically bouncing over to Rey. “I’m Rose, and if you’re Rey, which I really hope is the case because that’s who we’re looking for, then I’m your sister-in-law! This is—”_
> 
> _“Han Solo,” Rey finished for her_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, Buttercup! :) I have been waiting to get to the end of this chapter since VERY early on. Like the scene with the goodbye kiss and Kylo putting Rey's rings back on her finger, there's a moment (or two) at the end that I have had in reserve since I realized this story actually had a plot (so, like, just after I posted chapter one and made a loose outline of plot points, I guess).
> 
> Starting off with a flashback to Rey learning how to handle firearms (see the tags, I updated those last week in preparation for this), then a jump to a few days after the previous chapter's events.  
>    
> **CW: In addition to firearms training and the other new tags, there is mention of/reference to a political uprising/ coup that resulted in a royal family being deposed, as well as threats of violence.**
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

“Adjust your grip. Remember to account for recoil.”

Rey nodded and did as instructed, pulling the ear protection back into place before sighting carefully and bearing down on the trigger. She hissed out a curse as the shot went wide, still hitting the target but only just.

She was already raising her hand and sighting once more when she heard the muffled, “Squeeze the trigger, don’t pull.” She ground her teeth and nodded. “Again,” the voice came from behind her.

He didn’t go easy on her, and she was thankful for that. Jyn and Cassian had taught her blades, and hand to hand, filling her knowledge gaps there, but for firearms, they had brought someone else into her circle.

He didn’t work with them, but the way they all spoke _around_ the past rather than _about_ it made her think he did once, and they trusted him enough to send Rey off with him for training.

Once she was trained up well enough with handguns and rifles, they had agreed she could pick the next thing. She still hadn’t decided between some sort of martial arts or archery.

Assuming they were still around.

They were moving offices, and Jyn had been hinting about Rey taking over the current one. It was tempting, the idea of being able to move out of Plutt’s…dwelling, but something stopped her every time. Something didn’t feel quite right about it, as if she were meant for something different.

And, of course, there was the fact that they were clearly keeping something from her. She didn’t know what, but neither did she care really. She trusted them, instinctively, even when they told her not to.

She clicked empty and turned to reload, but he stopped her.

“Enough for today. You are too distracted, girl child.”

“I’m nineteen,” she protested, sounding exactly like the child he kept insisting she was.

“Exactly. Come on, pack up and you can try again tomorrow.” He paused, smiled. “If you don’t tell Jyn and Cassian we cut out early, I’ll buy you lunch at that place you love. And a milkshake.”

“You have somewhere to be,” she said, crossing her arms.

He shrugged, grinning at her. “And if I do?”

“Business or pleasure?”

“Who says it isn’t both?”

She rolled her eyes and returned to gathering her things. “I’ll be in the car. Don’t forget to police your brass,” he called over his shoulder, fiddling with the mobile phone he kept in his shirt pocket, rather than the two he carried in small pockets on his tac pants.

He didn’t realize she was finished, and he was talking to someone—arguing with them—when she approached.

“No, not today. She isn’t ready…I understand that…no, ma’am…Absolutely not! Anyone else maybe, but I _will not_ bring her to _him_ …I understand.” He ended the call and tucked the device away, hanging his head and sighing.

“Who’s not ready?”

“Must you ask? You, of course.”

“What am I not ready for?”

He rubbed at his brow. “My…employer…she wishes to meet you, wants to recruit you for a job.”

Rey blinked at him. That was…not what she expected. Which was odd, since she had no idea what she _had_ expected. “And when will I be ready?”

“Hopefully never.”

She tilted her head. “Take me to her.”

“What? No!”

“Take me, so I can tell her no and make her understand she should leave me alone.”

“That…is not how it will go.”

“But either way it won’t be your fault.”

She argued all the way to get lunch, through the meal, and outside after for ten minutes before he gave in and ushered her to the car in a fit of pique. She sighed and leaned her head against the window. Tired from an early morning, half the day spent in the sun, and a full belly.

She woke to the sound of voices, and blinked blearily as a man said, “Thank you, Agent Djarin,” and passed a little leather folder back in through the car window.

She watched quietly as he put the car back into drive and continued through some sort of security gates. Did they just cross a border?

He didn’t look at her, staring straight ahead as he drove, but it didn’t surprise her when he spoke. “Ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

“Whichever question is most pressing on your mind at the moment. But you only get one.”

“Okay, and this isn’t my question, but can I get a rain check and ask whatever I want later?”

“No.”

Rey crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. It was the answer she expected but it was worth a shot. “Fine,” she muttered. “Where are we?”

“Chandrila,” he said, the answer short and clipped, eyes darting back and forth between the mirrors and the road in front of them.

“The capital of Coruscant?” He nodded, once, just a quick jerk of his head.

“I thought the border was closed.”

“It is.” She opened her mouth to voice the next thought, something about how and why he’d been able to transport her into the next country, but before she even found the right words, he threw the car into park. “We’re here.” Then he was out of the car and striding towards the back of what might be a small office building with blacked out windows.

There were armed guards on either side of every possible entry point to the building as well as the interior doors and hallways, but they merely nodded at her companion and gestured them on.

She didn’t get a good look, but something about the uniforms and the colors on the various flags and emblems was familiar, though she wasn’t sure exactly why. They definitely weren’t Coruscanti, though. None of it was right for that.

The building must have been bigger than she had realized, because he led her to an office on the third floor, and then opened the door and gestured for Rey to enter first.

She gasped and stumbled at the first sight of the woman sitting at a small conference table, tired and annoyed looking men on either side of her. Din— _Agent Djarin_ —steadied her with a hand on her back as several stray thoughts clicked into place at once.

Rey sighed and stared blankly out the window, the lights of Chandrila proper flickering in the distance as night began to fall. It only made sense, she supposed, that being back in Chandrila would remind her of that first time. She hadn’t realized it until Cassian and Jyn were showing her the photographs they’d taken, but she’d been to the embassy building twice—once through the back when she was nineteen, and again the night she got married.

Kylo had taken her in through the front door that second time, and there hadn’t been any guards other than the local officers tasked with verifying ID and making everyone entering the building pass through a metal detector. She’d thought it was a courthouse near the border, not that he’d actually taken her to another country just to get married…at the embassy for a third country.

She sighed once again. He’d had his reasons, she knew. Kylo always had his reasons. If she hadn’t met her grandfather and his cohorts, she would have believed her husband an extremely paranoid man.

Her husband.

Maker she missed him.

She hadn’t seen Kylo—hadn’t seen _anyone_ other than Threepio or the stoic, silent guards in and around the house—in days.

She’d thought maybe it would get better, or that _someone_ would come and tell her what the bloody hell she’d gotten herself into, but it had been weeks and no one had.

Threepio had seemed almost pained when she asked about where they were and whose bed she’d been sleeping in, never mind when she’d lost control and ranted all of her follow up questions. He _wanted_ to tell her but for some reason felt he couldn’t, and with Kylo…well, she’d had other things on her mind at the motel.

So she stayed in the room that was hers for the foreseeable future, declined any attempts to draw her out, and only opened the door to accept a plate at mealtimes.

She thought about calling Kylo again, but she simply couldn’t ask Threepio to go to all the trouble to get another secure phone. He would, she knew in her very soul that he would do it, but he shouldn’t have to. She’d been informed by the guards, Threepio, and Kylo himself that she couldn’t use the same one twice, and it had taken weeks to get the first.

She must have drifted off, watching the city lights in the distance, because when she opened her eyes at a polite but firm knock, she’d grown cold and stiff and the stars were out.

She blinked a few times and rubbed at her eyes, and the knock came again. She took three steps before she realized it was not coming from the door.

It sounded again, two quick raps, and she picked up what was probably a priceless antique statue and crept toward the far side of the room, barely stopping her scream when the massive wardrobe in its entirety swung away from the wall, revealing a short woman and and an older man in a wheelchair.

“See, Han, I told you it was on the left,” the woman muttered to the man, who in turn just rolled his eyes in response.

“Yeah, yeah, Rose knows all.”

They seemed to realize she was there and immediately straightened and smiled. The woman—Rose, presumably—held up a hand and waggled her fingers. “Hi! Sorry! Hope we didn’t scare you too badly! The latch was stuck and this guy insisted it was on the other side.”

“Who _are_ you and what the bloody devil are you doing in my closet?”

Rose stepped into the room, practically bouncing over to Rey. “I’m Rose, and if you’re Rey, which I really hope is the case because that’s who we’re looking for, then I’m your sister-in-law! This is—”

“Han Solo,” Rey finished for her, “semi-retired Corellian ambassador to Coruscant, and husband of Leia Organa, the deposed queen of the crater formerly known as the country of Alderaan.”

“Guilty,” Han said, reaching down and pushing the chair forward.

Rose waved a hand and spoke again. “He’s also our—”

“Partner in crime for the evening,” Han interjected. Rose gave him a confused look and shrugged. “Anyway, we decided you’ve been basically trapped here for long enough so we decided to stage a jailbreak and take you to meet the small humans.”

Rey blinked and wondered for a moment if Rose was going to actually start bouncing soon. “I—small humans?”

Rose stared at Rey for a moment, wide-eyed. “They really haven’t told you _anything,_ have they?” It seemed like Rose’s shock was about to give way to anger, and Rey suspected that would be quite unpleasant.

“No one else has been here,” Rey said. “I didn’t even know Kylo had a sister until I was in the car the day I came here. I didn’t know a lot of things until then…” She trailed off and hugged herself.

“You need junk food,” Rose said sagely. “And possibly some of the good Corellian whiskey Han seems to think no one knows he has stashed.”

“Hey, now! I know you all know I _have_ it. The question is where.” He crossed his arms, a pleased grin on his face, and Rey was struck with a wave of familiarity, although she couldn’t be sure why. After all, she’d only met him once for about twenty minutes when she was nineteen.

“Which bottle?” Rose asked, turning to face Han. “You always have a minimum of three, but right now there are at least seven, if you count the one I left at the exit with Finn and Poe.” The man’s face fell, but Rey was more interested in Finn and Poe. They’d brought her here, maybe they could take her back home, or at least give her some idea who might.

If not, they were somewhat familiar faces, at least.

“Lead the way,” Rey said, with an imperious gesture she may or may not have picked up from her husband.

“Wow, you really are married to him,” Rose said, before turning and stepping into the tunnel behind the wardrobe.

“Off to Narnia,” Han muttered, wheeling himself into the passage and past Rose, who was waiting by the entrance.

“The latch is here,” Rose said when Rey stepped through, “and there’s a button there, go ahead and press it.” Rey pressed the small switch and the wardrobe swung back into place fairly smoothly, only a slight creak and a rattle from the hangers. “There’s a way to open it from inside the room, I’ll show you when we come back, assuming we’re sober enough. Also, remind me to bring some oil for all the gears and hinges, it shouldn’t make any noise or scrape the way it did. Otherwise, the secret escape tunnel won’t be secret for long.”

Rey smiled in spite of herself as Rose maintained amiable chatter down a fairly long tunnel, peppered with Han’s mostly sarcastic comments and smart-arsed asides. The exit was fairly well-disguised by a tangle of vines and a natural rock formation. Finn and Poe really were waiting there, and Finn immediately stepped forward to help each of them out, leaving Poe to assist in getting Han’s wheelchair over the uneven terrain (not that Han admitted he needed help, more like he grumbled and cursed the entire time, although Rey couldn’t help noticing the sly grin every time Poe grunted in effort or sighed at the verbal onslaught). There was a story there, not that she necessarily needed or even wanted to know it.

They broke through the tree line of what was apparently only a very small, wooded area, more a stand of trees between buildings, and Rey realized they were in the back yard of another large house, comprised of gray stone from what she could see in the darkness.

A door opened and Rey froze. That woman, the one from the pictures. Kylo’s sister.

She smiled and waved, balancing a bundle of blankets on her shoulder as a tiny figure darted past her with a shriek of glee and ran straight toward Rose, who scooped her up and placed a big, smacking kiss on her cheek. The child was a miniature Rose, complete with her smile, and the woman turned and grinned at Rey. “This is Charlie—short for Charlotte. Charlie, this is your Aunt Rey, do you remember we told you about her?”

The little girl nodded and stared at Rey with wide eyes, cuddling in close to Rose. A breeze ruffled her hair and Rose turned. “Come on, let’s get inside where it’s warm.” Rose smiled and turned, pausing a couple of times to make sure Rey followed, Charlie watching silently over Rose’s shoulder.

Finn and Poe had gone on ahead with Han, and the three of them were waiting in what turned out to be a large kitchen. The blonde woman stepped back to let them in, eyes watering as she stared at Rey and offered a bright smile. “This is my wife Kaydel,” Rose said softly, wrapping an arm around Kaydel, as the blonde shifted the bundle on her shoulder. “And _this_ ,” Rose continued, “Is little Benjamin—Bennie for short.” Rey stared in wonder as the infant—who couldn’t possibly be more than weeks old—opened his eyes and stared at her before yawning and settling back to sleep.

She knew those eyes.

“He looks like my brother,” Kaydel said, eyes glowing as she stared down at her sleeping baby. “Would you…would you like to hold him?” Kaydel ventured, hesitant as if unsure of Rey’s reaction.

Rey shook her head and backed up a step. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly…I’ve never…”

Apparently, that was the thing that decided Kaydel, who shared a quick glance with her wife. Rose stepped forward and grabbed Rey’s arms, positioning them just so and then Kaydel thrust the baby at her, settling him into her hold where he stirred and blinked up at her again before resettling with a sigh.

“You’re a natural,” Kaydel said with a wicked grin and _that_ was a familiar expression on an unfamiliar face. The blonde nodded to herself and turned. “Come sit down, we have cookies and cocoa, and possibly Irish coffee for some of you.”

“Eighteen!” Charlie chirped, spraying cookie crumbs over the surface of the table.

“That’s right, small human,” Rose said, “No coffee until you’re eighteen, so it doesn’t stunt your growth.”

“I be tall, like unca and Da,” Charlie said, reaching out with two hands for the cocoa in front of her. Rose steadied the cup as the presumably lukewarm liquid sloshed up the sides, threatening to splash out onto the tabletop.

“Hey, what about me?” Han asked, and Charlie laughed.

“Too short, Grandpa! I be taller.”

“I’m sure you will, squirt,” Han said, and Rey wondered idly if he and Leia had adopted Rose. It would make sense. After all, Leia had been adopted herself. It was the main bit of “evidence” used during the coup in Alderaan to protest her succession to the throne (despite the fact that the country had been a constitutional monarchy for generations by that point and the royal family had little to no actual authority—they just happened to own a good portion of the country).

The baby stirred and made a whining sort of snuffling sound and Rey looked down, instinctively jostling him a bit, just rocking him in her arms. Bennie burrowed into her chest and made that little sighing sound again.

After a few more minutes passed, Rose excused herself to put Charlie to bed, and Kaydel reclaimed Bennie, settling into the chair beside Rey to nurse him. Rey noticed the almost evil glee in the blonde’s smile as the men in the room shifted uncomfortably and all stared resolutely at the far door as she unbuttoned her shirt.

“Thank you, Rey,” she said softly, “For loving B—my brother. For making him so happy.”

Rey shook her head and looked down at the table.

“He tries to make it difficult to care, but it’s impossible not to,” she continued, and Rey nodded mutely. “Can I ask you, does he…has he told you anything, about his past?”

Rey looked up and shook her head slowly, wincing at the pain in Kaydel’s eyes. “I know…almost nothing about him, really,” Rey said. “We’ve been married two years, and I didn’t even know he had a sister until he put me in the car with those two,” she said, gesturing towards Finn and Poe. “I suppose I don’t know him at all,” she finished softly, eyes blurring a bit as the tears threatened to fall. Kaydel balanced the baby with one hand, reaching out for Rey’s with the other. “I don’t know him, but I miss him, and I love him, and I am still absolutely furious with the great bloody idiot for putting me in this position!”

Kaydel squeezed her hand and laughed, a sound echoed by Han at the far end of the table. “It sounds like you know him pretty well,” she said, squeezing Rey’s hand again.

“It’s because he was trying to protect me,” Rey said, needing to tell someone, _anyone_. “My grandfather is Sheev Palpatine, a fact I only learned a little over two years ago. “He sent Kylo and another of his employees to find me, knowing exactly where I’d been all along, and made me choose between them, _ordered_ me to marry one of them and ‘produce a suitable heir’ within five years. I don’t know exactly why, other than some outdated idea of securing the family bloodline, I don’t even know my own full birth name or who my mother was.”

“I do,” a new voice said from the doorway, and Rey looked up, gasping in surprise as Leia Organa stepped into the kitchen, hair coiled on top of her head and bundled into a set of mismatched flannel pajamas and a tattered dressing gown, with a pair of worn slippers on her feet. Something about it all told Rey it was because she was comfortable, not that she couldn’t have worn something else. “Hello again, Rey. It’s been a long time.”

“Seven years,” Rey said, “going on eight.”

Kaydel stared back and forth between the two of them, apparently shocked they had met before.

Leia ignored everyone but Rey as she crossed the room and stood behind the chair across from the table from where Rey sat. “I know what he wants, I know why, and I know exactly who you are.” She pulled out the chair and sat, rubbing at her brow. “The truth is, I always have, and I am so very sorry I didn’t do more to help you, didn’t trust you enough with your own life. You’re an heiress, Rey, a very wealthy one.”

“Well, yes, the last Palpatine, trust me, I know.”

“No,” Leia said, shaking her head. “That’s not what I mean. I’m not talking about your father’s family, Rey, I’m talking about your mother’s. You’re not just a Palpatine, Rey. You’re also a Kenobi, and as my daughter-in-law, you’re in line for the Skywalker inheritance as well.”

Rey went cold, paled, as Leia just kept talking. It was too much, she couldn’t process all the information being thrown at her, and she yelped and nearly fell out of her chair when knocking and yells and pounding footsteps thundered down the hallway, a knot of people spilling into the kitchen through the far doorway, and a breathless Threepio came in from the door to the yard at the same moment.

Five people she would never expect here, and certainly never together.

“Mistress Rey, please, we must hurry!” Threepio called out.

Rey was already scrambling to her feet, terror gripping her at the tone of the old man’s voice, when Armitage Hux looked at her and spoke, voice even and low enough she was surprised she heard him, despite the wild look in his eyes and his heaving chest. “They’re going to kill him Rey. He’s figured it out and they’re going to kill him for it.”

She looked from Hux to Threepio. “Stay here,” she ordered the elderly man, before turning to glare at Leia. “You take care of him until I get back, and then you and I are going to have words.”

And then she was out of the kitchen, running down the hall behind Hux, as Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, and Din Djarin brought up the rear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah... A LOT of information there. Don't be shy if you have questions. The worst I can do is either say no or wait and see. Still not sure I can pull this all off in two more chapters but we're going to say I can for now...


	14. The Poetry of It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo decides he's tired of waiting and sets out to meet his fate. Unfortunately, the old boys are ready and waiting for him, and he ends up with plenty of time to brood over his past.
> 
> _She was a loud little thing, whoever she was. He supposed kids that age usually were. She was…at most two, maybe? Close to Kaydel’s age, anyway, and happy. So very happy…she laughed at everything. One of Uncle Luke’s dogs had been curled at his mother’s feet and she shrieked and clapped her hands when it stood and stretched, then made a sound that made his ears ring when it crossed the room and licked her face._
> 
> _It was…okay, it was adorable, she was adorable, but weren’t little kids supposed to be? It was like an evolutionary thing, so that older, bigger humans would instinctively protect them, even if they were totally annoying sometimes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags updated again.
> 
> CW: Gun violence, blade violence, and beatings and references to all manner of unpleasant things including the murder of Rey's parents. There is a flashback to an assassination attempt as well as the old men drugging Kylo and having him beaten.
> 
> Hopefully the quick update turnaround helps make up for the cliffhanger in the last chapter...maybe?
> 
> In fact, there are a LOT of flashbacks in this chapter and it skips around a lot. Kylo's having that "life flashing before his eyes" reaction, and is under the influence of whatever he's been drugged with.
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

Prince Benjamin Charles Skywalker Organa-Solo of the defunct country of Alderaan hovered near the partially open doorway of his mother’s study in their Coruscant home. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but the entire family had fled to the relative safety of his father’s old diplomatic post a few months prior. It was all extremely complicated, confusing and, for an almost 12-year-old, boring.

His lessons with the private tutors were on hold, and his parents were constantly arguing about whether sending him away to boarding school with his Uncle Luke when he left in the fall would be safe. Safe from what he wasn’t entirely sure.

Not that he wanted to go.

Uncle Luke was kind of boring, too, although he _did_ have a pretty cool library…which no one was allowed to access.

But mostly, Ben wanted to stay for Kaydel. His little sister was going to be three in the fall, and so far, his parents were paying attention to _both_ of their children. It was almost like being a real family, for once.

He heard the sound that had drawn his attention. A small child, definitely not Kaydel as she was having a nap in the nursery with her nanny hovering close at hand. She (or he) cried out again, a happy sound, ending in a gurgling laugh and a string of unintelligible sounds interspersed with the occasional actual word.

He peeked in the partially open door and smiled (not that he would ever admit it) at the chubby toddler playing in the floor near his mother and her guest.

Ruffled yellow dress and a matching bow struggling for purchase in what hair she had, white tights wrinkled at her ankles, and shiny black shoes…so a fairly safe assumption that she was a little girl.

She was a loud little thing, whoever she was. He supposed kids that age usually were. She was…at most two, maybe? Close to Kaydel’s age, anyway, and happy. So very happy…she laughed at everything. One of Uncle Luke’s dogs had been curled at his mother’s feet and she shrieked and clapped her hands when it stood and stretched, then made a sound that made his ears ring when it crossed the room and licked her face.

It was…okay, it was adorable, _she_ was adorable, but weren’t little kids supposed to be? It was like an evolutionary thing, so that older, bigger humans would instinctively protect them, even if they were totally annoying sometimes.

“Oh! Bennie, come in and join us!”

He jumped when his mother called out. He hadn’t thought she’d seen him. He sighed and rolled his eyes at her insistence on using the childish nickname and tugged at his hair even though his parents wouldn’t let him grow it long enough to cover his ears.

“Ben, you remember Obi Wan’s niece, Charlotte?” He nodded and gave her a close-lipped almost smile as he felt his ears heat up. Charlotte Kenobi was older than him and pretty and sweet and a little bit mean and he thought she might be the love of his life. “And this is her daughter, Valerie.” The toddler was cackling again, as the pug sat up and begged for her tea cake.

Valerie Desiree Constance Catherine Charlotte Kenobi-Palpatine…

Kylo groaned and scrubbed at his eyes as best he could with his hands bound. Rey, his Rey, his perfect, amazing, sometimes surprisingly violent and feral wife, was the Kenobi heiress.

And Charlotte’s daughter. Charlotte Kenobi (as far as he was concerned when he’d known her, the hyphenated addition of Palpatine was silent and invisible—although looking back, Rhys Palpatine really hadn’t been so bad). The young woman who was technically his mother-in-law, or at least would have been had she lived long enough, had been the unknowing (he hoped) star of his adolescent fantasies. _That_ was a secret he planned to take to his grave.

He should have recognized Rey the moment he saw her at Plutt’s. She’d even had a variation on the same hairstyle as the last time he’d seen her, the one her mother also favored. Not to mention, she had inherited Charlotte’s tendency to freckle with even minimal sun exposure.

In his defense, it _had_ been over twenty years, he was a little distracted by her repeated attempts at inflicting soft-tissue injuries on himself and Hux, and as far as most of the world had known, she had died in the ‘accident’ that took her parents when Ben was sixteen.

_Accident._

Right.

They’d been found in the trunk, after their car went over a cliff near the border between Exegol, Coruscant, and what used to be Alderaan.

One of the few people in the world who believed Rey had survived was Obi Wan “Ben” Kenobi, her great-uncle, and he looked for her until his health gave out, leaving the entirety of his fortune to her, provided she (or her own heirs) claim it before her thirtieth birthday.

Which would be only a few months after the five-year deadline Palpatine and Snoke had put into place.

It was clear their plan had been to procure the heir, get rid of Rey (and Kylo, certainly), and put themselves in place as the child’s guardians with full access to his or her inheritances—all of them.

And Kylo had made it all easier for them by ensuring everything he had was put into Rey’s name the day they wed, with any future inheritance he might get from his own family to go either directly to her or in trust for their children.

They didn’t even need to kill him.

They would anyway, of course, but they didn’t _need_ to.

He sucked in a breath and groaned. He kept forgetting just how badly that hurt. He had to have at least a couple of cracked ribs, and possibly some internal bleeding. They’d been holding back, and he wasn’t exactly sure why. It wasn’t like they didn’t know where Rey was, and as long as she stayed with his parents and didn’t cross the border back into Exegol, they couldn’t touch her.

A frisson of fear swept up his spine.

No. Oh, no…

Knowing Rey, that was _exactly_ what she would do.

He’d thought they just planned to kill him, make an example of him, a warning of what happens when one betrays or defies Snoke and Palpatine, and they probably still would, but it hit him all at once that he was more than just a warning.

He was bait.

And considering she would have run off to his rescue even if she hadn’t loved him, she was likely already on her way.

He scrubbed at his eyes again, pinched his arm and hesitantly pressed over the place where the worst of pain in his ribs was centered, but it was no use.

Whatever they’d given him to try and knock him out was beginning to work.

“Hey, son, this way!”

He looked up just in time to see his father step off the path, cutting through the woods. The others had a head start, and Han Solo had a knack for finding shortcuts and hated to lose. “Dad, come _on_ ,” he grumbled, before stepping off the path and following his father into the woods. He knew where the man was going. He’d cut across and take the old bridge rather than the longer (SAFE) paths the others had probably followed.

The man was too damn competitive.

Ben picked up his pace—he was his father’s son after all. Couldn’t just _let_ Uncle Luke and Poe or Chewie and Lando win, after all.

His father was half-way across when he saw it. A red dot, trained on Han’s back.

They didn’t use laser sights for hunting or paintball or capture the flag (the excuses each pair had given his mother for their absence—they really needed to learn to coordinate better).

Ben didn’t think, he just ran. “Dad! Dad, look out!”

Two pops, in quick succession, and a burning in his side, but his father was okay. A little bruised, and sort of dangling off the bridge, but he hadn’t been hit and Ben was pretty sure he was just grazed, himself. He stretched out, adjusting his grip to pull his father back up, but for some reason Han was struggling, fighting against him. “No! Son, let go!”

There was another pop, and the bridge made a groaning, creaking sound. He heard yelling in the distance, recognized Chewie’s dull roar of a voice. “Come on, Dad, the others are almost here, we need to get to some cover.”

A sharp pain, and…was something poking him? Then a yell from Chewie—and his father yelling, “Ben, NO!” as he jerked free of his son’s grasp and fell into the rocky water below—were the last things Ben knew before the darkness took him.

“And what’s this one?” Rey asked, fingers tracing the faint line on his side.

“Bullet grazed me,” he said, shifting uncomfortably in the hard motel bed.

“So then this one is…”

“Through and through. No permanent damage, but it hurt like a bitch. And this one,” he covered her hand, slid it down to the rest of the mass of scars on his side, “Arrow. Same day, all three of them. The arrow _did_ do some serious damage, but all the internal stuff healed.”

She stared at him, eyebrows raised as she waited for him to elaborate.

“It was nothing, really, a hunting accident.”

“Hunting? Really? I never would have pictured you as a hunter.”

She leaned back in, resting her head on his chest and still tracing over the scars. “I’m not, really, it was always more my dad’s thing.”

“Will you tell me about him?”

He almost said no, wanted to, but she’d find out soon enough anyway, considering she was living in the next house over. “He was…not so bad, I guess. Busy and gone a lot for work, but he tried to be there when he could. Just…we didn’t have a lot in common.”

“And your mother?”

“Ah, mostly the same. I know, logically, they must have loved me, but I didn’t always feel it. They left me with employees, or my uncle, when they were both gone at the same time, and I felt like I was a burden, most of the time.” He winced at her sharp intake of breath. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s been years and…” he shook his head as he trailed off.

Rey turned, draping one leg over him and lying half on top of him as her fingers skated over his abs, just touching him because she wanted to, because she could. He knew it, because he was doing the same, hands stroking over her back and arms, tracing idle circles over her waist. “What about your sister?”

“Ah, Kaydel,” he said, and he felt his face relax into a smile. “She’s younger—your age, actually—and, I don’t know, when she came along it was like my parents suddenly started trying harder—with both of us. I was a little shit by then and didn’t really appreciate the way I should it at the time, but Kay…well I never resented her for it. She was the good kid, the one that fixed the things I broke.”

“Oh, Kylo,” Rey said softly, reaching up to touch his face, leaning in to kiss him, and they abandoned the talking for a while.

He was tired of waiting, tired of the constant anxiety and jumping at shadows. They wanted to wait him out. Fine, he’d call them on it.

He had copies of everything, all the evidence, all the proof. The originals were secure with…well, someone his parents trusted. Even he wasn’t sure who, and most likely the documents had been separated and divvied up between several people and locations.

Threepio had copies, and a letter for Rey, explaining all of the things he should have told her long ago.

He’d sent a set to Chewie.

Another to his uncle.

A set to his mother’s top intelligence officers.

And one to Armitage Hux.

That last one was more of a gamble. He was pretty sure Hux and Rey were…friendly if not friends, and he didn’t _think_ the other man would harm her. He hoped he wasn’t wrong about that. If Hux did as Kylo expected, he and Rey would completely dismantle the company and Snoke and Palpatine would pay for at least some of the things they’d done for money and power.

He watched as Kira and Ellie were loaded into the van that would take them to Rey, checked the locks on the case with the safe contents that Bazine would deliver to his wife within 24 hours, and closed the door behind himself for what he was sure was the last time.

He didn’t bother with the alarm or even the locks.

Nothing that mattered was left inside.

“You didn’t tell me your sister was so cute!”

He blinked at Rose, the tiny woman who had decided to be his best friend, whether he thought he needed one or not.

“Um…she’s my sister so…”

She punched his arm, hard enough he actually flinched. “Rose!”

“Don’t be a baby, Solo,” she muttered.

“That hurt.”

“Oh, boo hoo, poor little Bennie.”

“Please don’t call me that. My mother calls me that and I hate it.”

“And yet I noticed you didn’t complain when Kaydel said it.”

“That’s different,” he muttered, staring at the floor.

“Big softie,” Rose said, hugging the arm she’d just punched. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Now, tell me, is your sister seeing anyone?”

He hadn’t recognized her at first, the day she bumped into him as he left the coffee shop where he’d met with Kay.

Jyn Erso.

He hadn’t even known her name until about a week prior, but he knew _exactly_ who she was, and when he finally realized why the short woman who had bumped into him looked so familiar, he’d realized Snoke wasn’t the one tracking his movements. Or at least not the only one.

It was pain that woke him, not the dull throbbing ache from his ribs, but something sharp and swift and burning.

The security officers dragged him to his feet as Pryde tossed the syringe in a nearby waste bin while Snoke and Palpatine looked on.

“Put him on his knees,” Snoke ordered, “so that he can beg for his pathetic life.”

The two thugs (because that’s really all they were) did as ordered, and it took a few minutes of one of them steadying him as he weaved and swayed before Kylo could look up at the men before him.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t give them what they wanted.

Snoke nodded and one of the guards on him gave him a swift kick, at the very least bruising another rib—this time on the opposite side of the bulk of his injuries.

There was movement, and the man himself was standing before him when Kylo was finally able to look up again.

“Pathetic child,” the man hissed, reaching out and grabbing Kylo’s chin in cold, spidery fingers. “I had hoped you would surpass your legacy, be worthy of your grandfather. I should have known you were nothing.”

Kylo managed a defiant glare.

“She’s here, you know, boy. Your young wife.”

He fought not to show anything, not to let the fear escape. It was a lie. It had to be.

“You’re weak, boy, couldn’t even manage the simple task of producing a child. _Didn’t. Even. Try!_ ” he hissed. He released his hold and shoved, and Kylo let himself fall. “Did you actually believe we wouldn’t know, wouldn’t find out?”

Kylo stayed on the floor, stared at Snoke’s shoes as the man paced.

“Disgusting, how you let her manipulate you, how you gave into weakness… _emotion_.” Snoke said the last word as if it truly did disgust him, then turned, pacing back to tower over Kylo (only possible because Kylo couldn’t stand).

“I knew you would fail. Too much of your parents—your _father_ —in you. It made you soft. But Mr. Palpatine wanted to give you a chance. I admit, even I liked the poetry of it, Vader’s grandson the one to return all he stole to the rightful, but I doubted you were man enough to pull it off. Pity you proved me right…and yet, your mistakes have compounded to achieve the same end.” The man knelt, producing a blade from somewhere and pressing it to Kylo’s throat, leaning in close to whisper the final bit of vile news. “We’ll keep her, you know, until she produces the heir we need. Thanks to your own actions, it needn’t be yours. She’ll be a young widow, ripe and ready. Perhaps we’ll give her to Hux. He’s certainly proven virile enough to be up to the task, with your trollop of a sister and the strumpet she calls a _wife_.”

Kylo’s eyes widened and he hissed out a breath before he could stop himself.

“Oh! You didn’t know! This is delicious. I had thought perhaps Pryde’s son would be a better match, bring her to heel, but now, perhaps I do appreciate the idea of Hux having all that should have remained yours: your sister, the little friend you nearly let talk you out of joining us, and your wife.” He stood up and beckoned to Pryde, reaching out for another syringe.

Everything seemed to happen at once.

Pryde jerked the syringe out of Snoke’s hand.

There was a small…explosion…down the hall, and echoing footsteps from the other direction proved to be Rey and Hux entering the room, his wife dressed all in black and bristling with weapons. She raised her arm and Snoke stumbled, clutching at the sleek throwing knife sticking out of his shoulder.

“I’ll thank you to step the fuck away from my husband,” Rey hissed.

She was insane.

She was outnumbered.

She was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Another explosion sounded, this time closer and rattling the room. “Oh, sounds like Cassian found your toys, Gramps.”

The thud of boots and pops of gunfire echoed from the hallway as reinforcements drew close.

The question was, whose were they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um...yes, another cliffhanger...
> 
> Sorry?
> 
> If it helps, the next chapter is moving along nicely, and if you think I increased the chapter count...I did.


	15. The Traitor, The Spy, and The Mole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is going to save her husband...if only so she can kill him herself (but that doesn't mean anyone else gets to hurt or disparage him).
> 
> _They crossed the border by helicopter, piloted by Luke Skywalker himself. By way of greeting, he’d nodded to Rey as they lifted off, muttering “Ready to save your idiot husband?” into his headset._
> 
> _“Watch yourself, Skywalker,” Rey hissed back. “He may be an idiot but he’s_ my _idiot and_ you _don’t get to call him names.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may expect, more violence, as well as some reckless driving and several flashbacks (although not as many as the previous chapter).
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

“So, are you just a donor or are Kaydel and/or Rose the reason you were okay with letting Kylo win me?”

Hux stared at her in shock.

“Bennie has your eyes, Armitage, and Charlie’s hair has red highlights.”

His eyes flicked nervously across the room, where their companions were arguing with a ridiculously tall man about which car they would be taking for their little rescue operation. “I…yes, the children are mine, and I…were it legal anywhere close by, I would have already wed both Rose and Kaydel.”

“Good.” She nodded once and walked away, biting back a smile as he sputtered behind her. “We’re taking this one,” she called out, holding up a key fob and unlocking the doors on a car she knew very well. “You can follow when you get this settled, but I have neither the time nor the patience to wait for that.” She opened the door to Kylo’s usual work vehicle—the one he used most often when driving himself, anyway—and slipped into the driver’s seat. “Get in, Hux, or I won’t wait for you, either.” Despite taking a moment to adjust the seat so she could reach the pedals (and the steering wheel, for that matter), she already had the vehicle in gear and took her foot off the brake as he slid into the passenger’s seat. “Open the bay, Chewie,” she called out the window, “Or I’m going through it.” The tall man’s response was garbled as she closed the window again and glanced over at Hux. “Strap in.”

“Do you even know how to operate a vehicle?”

She gave him what she was certain was an unnerving grin and ignored the open space for turning around, backing out at an angle and doing so much faster than anyone _should_ when exiting a garage, and particularly when doing so in reverse.

“I know a lot of things, Armitage Hux,” she said, throwing the car into gear and shooting forward with a screech of tires. She reached up and pressed a button that should have opened the sunroof, but instead opened a panel near the glove box. “Tilt that this way, would you, my arms aren’t as long as Kylo’s.”

He did so silently, and she pressed her thumb to a sensor, activating the GPS but with a few…enhancements. “My husband has a lot of money, an interesting array of contacts, and reason to be paranoid,” she offered. She pointed at a couple of dots on the screen. “That will be Jyn and Cassian,” she said indicating the first, “And I assume that’s Din and anyone else who decided to tag along.”

He just stared at her in silence.

“I’m not a spy,” she said, “I refused when Leia tried to recruit me, but I was trained by her best team—for my own protection, apparently, although I didn’t understand why until now. I suppose it stuck with me.” She paused, swallowing hard and clearing her throat. “So, my question is, how long have you been on her payroll and did you know who my husband really was, or me for that matter?”

He seemed to be afraid. That was good. Smart of him. Maybe they’d survive the night.

“I…no, Rey, I didn’t know who you were until earlier today. Snoke and Palpatine went to great lengths to keep anyone from finding out who your mother was, or that your parents were legally wed. Pryde nearly ruined it all for them when he told you your full name, but since no one else was in the room and you didn’t catch it they were able to cover.”

Rey nodded. She was still angry with herself over that. She’d _known_ there was a reason the three older men wanted to meet only with her that day, but she’d still slipped up, still missed a vital piece of information.

“And Kylo?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “That is a more complicated answer,” he muttered, then gasped as Rey shifted gears, swerving around a car moving too slowly for her liking and racing through an intersection.

“Where the bloody hell did you learn to drive, you maniac?” Hux yelled, gripping the seat with his left hand and the door with his right.

She laughed, really how could she not?

“Which time? I believe you know Bazine.”

“Phasma’s wife? Good God, woman, please tell me you didn’t learn from her.”

“Not initially, no, but she gave me an excellent refresher course.” His yelp was covered a bit by the bark of the tires as she turned a corner. “Jyn taught me the basics.” Hux muttered a curse and tightened his safety belt. “Then Din and Cassian decided they needed to retrain and refine, because they’re big babies and can’t deal with her driving prowess either.” She laughed when he closed his eyes as she swept through another red light. “And then there was the weekend I spent with Han Solo and Luke Skywalker getting tips from them. Even though I refused Leia’s offer, I had been promised one more set of lessons by Jyn and Cassian after Din taught me firearms. I had thought martial arts or archery, but when the opportunity presented itself, a defensive driving course from those two was simply too good to let pass.”

Rey glanced at the person in the passenger seat, nervous excitement making her practically vibrate. _The_ Han Solo was giving her driving lessons with help from his brother-in-law, Luke Skywalker.

Even after she’d maybe had a fit of temper and insulted everyone in the room when she met them and Leia Organa, deposed Queen of Alderaan.

She was nineteen and they were pushy, she decided it was a natural reaction, but she was still surprised when Jyn had casually mentioned that she had impressed all three of them and Luke and Han had agreed to a weekend of driving lessons and pointers.

Han was with Rey, observing and giving instructions, as Luke barreled at them from various directions. Of course, Han also had plenty to say about Luke’s subpar (in Han’s opinion, anyway) driving skills. “He’s a better pilot than driver, but I can’t really drive anymore. Leia won’t let them modify any of the good cars for me to go as fast as I want.”

She knew he’d been wheelchair bound for a few years. The whole world knew, but the only details released had been that he was injured in a fall.

She wanted to ask, felt the question burning on her tongue, but she did have slightly better manners than that.

“Bloody hell, woman! This isn’t the Kessel run!”

Rey bit her lip as Armitage yelped again. Truthfully, she was grateful for the distraction. It was why she’d brought him with her rather than racing off on her own.

That and the chance to question him, although she hadn’t really done much of that after all. At the moment, the only thing she could really focus on was getting to Kylo.

It was foolish and childish and desperate, but she couldn’t help thinking it would all be better if they were just in the same place, if she could just see for herself that he was still alive.

She’d geared up in the drive of the Organa-Solo home, Hux gaping like a fish as Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor, and Din Djarin passed her black clothing (and yes, she had stripped down and changed right there, no time for modesty), body armor, holsters, and more weapons than it seemed any one person should be able to carry.

Still less than the three of them carried, but considerable.

She cooed in appreciation at the throwing knives Din handed over, testing one in her hand and finding it perfectly balanced for her. They had to have been custom made. She looked up in question.

“I missed some birthdays, girl child.”

She would have hugged him, but Cassian was urging everyone into the van.

Later, she would thank him later.

They crossed the border by helicopter, piloted by Luke Skywalker himself. By way of greeting, he’d nodded to Rey as they lifted off the ground, muttering “Ready to save your idiot husband?” into his headset.

“Watch yourself, Skywalker,” Rey hissed back. “He may be an idiot but he’s _my_ idiot and _you_ don’t get to call him names.”

Cassian cleared his throat and she bit her own tongue to stop the angry diatribe threatening to spill over.

She didn’t know the details, and she was still very confused about it all, but based on things her husband had said, she was certain this was the mysterious mentor whose actions had directly contributed to him joining up with Snoke and Palpatine.

Rey shook her head, making the final turn. She needed to focus. Kylo needed her, whether he was willing to admit it or not, and once he was safe, she was going to kick his arse for trying to offer himself as some sort of sacrifice.

And not telling her anything about himself.

Or herself.

Or the fact that he was apparently a fucking _prince_.

And definitely because he’d secretly put everything in her name the day they got married and never bothered to tell her.

That was one of the few things Threepio _had_ admitted to her, when she’d been fretting about owing someone for putting her up, worried about whose home she’d invaded.

He’d cut her off mid-rant, clucked his tongue at her, and uttered, “It’s yours, madam, the house and everything within. The master ensured you would have full control and access to the entirety of his estate.” The man had never even looked up from his newspaper.

She’d stared at him, her own mouth hanging open, as he read over and flipped at least two pages.

When she managed to form questions like ‘Who owned it before?’ and ‘How long ago did he buy it?’ Threepio had simply ignored her and folded the paper, setting it neatly aside as he reached for the next section.

That was the night she’d withdrawn to what was apparently her room—er, suite of rooms (although she still thought of it as someone else’s, and probably always would).

She was getting distracted again.

Hux practically threw himself out of the car when the vehicle squealed and slid to a halt at the agreed upon rendezvous point.

The others had caught up by the time Rey locked the doors and circled to the boot, leaning back as she waited, pretending not to be about to fly apart in a thousand pieces.

Hux was still sitting on the ground, glaring at Rey every few seconds and muttering about bloody madwomen and, she thought, a bit about how she and Kylo deserved one another and keeping her away from Rose.

“We have to wait about an hour. Our man on the inside can’t get us in undetected before that.”

She glared at Din but didn’t argue, setting her jaw and looking away from them all.

She was well aware it was a pale imitation of her husband’s behavior when he was attempting not to argue. She’d probably even learned it from him, along with so many other gestures that just came second nature to her now.

That man _better_ survive so she could kill him once they were safe.

“When you came in the door, I thought you might punch me,” Kylo said, resettling himself against the scant, flat pillows the motel had provided and pulling her back into his arms.

“I thought about it, intended to even, but then I saw you and I just…”

“Couldn’t resist my virile masculinity?”

She pinched his nipple and he yelped. “Ow! Hey now, be nice. You know I’m right.”

“I’m still rightly cross with you.”

He sighed. “I know. You should be. I just panicked. Rey, you are the single most important thing in my life. If something happened to you—”

“I know.”

She thought, maybe, just maybe, he understood she meant more than just knowing how he felt about her, understood that she was saying she would react the same way.

She rested her head on his chest again, enjoying the feel of his fingers idly running through her hair. She needed to leave soon, but she intended to savor every moment remaining.

Who knew when they could both sneak away again?

She sighed and stroked a hand over his side. “Plutt used to lock me in the closet,” she offered, hesitant and wary. He stilled against her, not even breathing for a long moment. She carried on. He’d told her a bit about his family, let her trace every one of his scars and told her where they’d come from. Surely, she could do the same.

“It’s why I can’t sleep with the door closed, and keep a light on.” She shifted, pressing more of her body against him as his arms tightened around her, lips pressing against her hair. “The first time was the night my parents left me…the night they died, I suppose. They…I don’t know why they left me with him, other than they must have been desperate and he was greedy enough to hide me in exchange for money. I was crying, couldn’t stop, and it annoyed him, so he locked me in the closet for the night. It…wasn’t the last time.” She shifted again, turning her head a little more so she could press her ear against his chest, feel and hear the strong, steady thud of his heart.

“I suppose I’m lucky, really, that my grandfather’s people found me before my father’s money ran out. He took over the payments, and in turn Plutt kept me mostly safe—physically, at least.”

“Rey, he starved you and you had to learn self defense to keep his gang from…from...”

She lifted her head. “I know Kylo, I do, but it could have been so much worse. What do you think would have happened to me if Plutt hadn’t been paid for his silence? For hiding me for all those years?”

He didn’t have an answer for that and yet his silence was answer enough.

“How, exactly, did you end up tangled up with Leia’s spies while under Plutt’s…shall we say _care_?”

She blinked at Hux, but it was Cassian who answered.

“Plutt’s greed is boundless and he has little to no care for examining the source of his income.”

Hux opened his mouth, as if to argue, but then just shook his head and looked down at his scuffed and dusty shoes.

He was the only one of them not in tactical gear, and his Italian leather shoes and bespoke suit were a bit worse for wear after all the running and the sitting on the ground after he had escaped the car (his phrasing).

Cassian held up a hand and covered his ear, muffling their chatter to better hear whatever (and _whomever_ ) was coming through. He didn’t speak, just lowered his head and gave a nod.

It was time.

Rey fell into the middle of the scattered formation they’d taken. Her right hand had a firearm at the ready, but her left toyed absently with the throwing knives strapped across her chest.

She always had preferred blades (well, when her feet and fists or whatever blunt instrument she had at hand weren’t enough) and that was perhaps _why_ she was better with them.

She felt it, the panic trying to wash over her again, the despairing terror that they were already too late.

But no, they wouldn’t risk her in that case. Din would carry her out himself, and despite the things they’d kept from her, she suspected Jyn and Cassian (and even Hux) would never let her go in if there was no point.

She pulled one of the knives, the weight comforting in her hand.

They had a plan. They’d split up, maybe set off some minor explosions, moving in from more than one direction.

She and Hux would be first to go into the secured room—something between a panic room and a modern sort of medieval dungeon—in hopes that their presence and betrayal would be an additional diversion…she harbored no illusions that it could ever be a surprise, but the hope was that the two of them putting themselves right in the middle of everything could at least be distracting.

Well, that was how she’d framed it.

Really, she just couldn’t hang back any longer. He was so close she fancied she could _feel_ him, sense his presence just ahead.

She outpaced Hux and threw herself through the doorway, protective fury overwhelming her at the scene before her.

Kylo was on the ground, hands bound and looking as if there was no part of him that hadn’t been beaten. Snoke stood over him, knife in one hand and syringe in the other.

She moved on instinct, left arm raising at the same time Pryde snatched the syringe back out of Snoke’s reach. She may have stumbled just slightly as the first of the explosives detonated. She’d blame that for the blade ending up in Snoke’s shoulder at an angle. It accomplished what she needed though, drawing his attention to her and away from Kylo, and making the old man drop his own blade as he tugged at hers, trying to remove it.

He was still too close, though.

“I’ll thank you to step the fuck away from my husband,” she hissed, reaching for another knife.

Another explosion rocked the building, and if the staticky bits of dialog she was catching through her own earpiece were correct, the hallway her grandfather’s extra guards would have to use should be blocked. She hoped Cassian and Din really had ensured the blast wouldn’t be enough to threaten the structural integrity of the building…and that they’d waited for Jyn to clear any little surprises of the injurious kind first.

Apparently, her grandfather had a thing for booby traps.

She smiled as the confirmation that Jyn had in fact disabled a number of devices after Cassian located then came over the earpiece.

“Oh, sounds like Cassian found your toys, Gramps,” she said, stepping fully into the room. She could hear the pounding of booted feet, shouts of her grandfather’s men as they worked to clear the hallway. “And Jyn broke them.”

Armitage stepped up behind her and Snoke gave them a chilling smile. Her grandfather laughed as a heavy door clanged shut behind them. “Not all of them,” he said. “I am always prepared. And now I have you all in my grasp. My pitiful son’s feeble excuse for an heir, the traitor, the spy, and the mole.”

“I’m the spy,” Hux said, as the two guard in the room shoved Pryde to the ground.

“Foolish, insolent boy,” Palpatine said, “you’re the mole.” Rey thought Hux might actually argue. He just looked so…offended. “Ren is the spy.”

Kylo coughed and groaned before muttering a weak, “I thought I was the traitor.”

Finished with Pryde, the two guards moved to where Rey was kneeling beside Kylo, Armitage standing nearby. They started by frisking the redhead, and Rey took advantage of their complete disregard for her as a threat, despite the fact that she was carrying a small arsenal—most of it in plain sight. She leaned over Kylo, lips brushing along his cheek, skimming close to his ear, both hands reaching for the least injured of his.

She yelped and Kylo growled when the guard who’d searched Hux grabbed the low ponytail she’d made of her hair and dragged her up to her knees. The other one grabbed her arm and jerked her the rest of the way to her feet as they began to divest her of weapons.

“Oh, you’re all traitors,” the old man continued, “But no, the one I’ve been _watching_ for so long, the individual I _trusted_ to carry out _my_ plans, _my_ will, the one who _betrayed_ everything I made him, is _you._ ”

Snoke actually seemed surprised when her grandfather pointed to him then stood and walked calmly across the room, no sign of the limp he’d publicly displayed for years, no tremors in his limbs, not even the slightest hint of a stoop in his shoulders or spine.

“Did you truly believe you’d bested me, Snoke? I _made_ you—all of you!” he added, gesturing to encompass everyone in the room. Snoke actually whimpered as one of the guards moved to force him to a kneeling position. Her grandfather’s hand moved, and Rey winced, suspecting what he was going to do. Sure enough, he grasped the throwing knife, made a twisting motion, and then jerked the blade free. “I’ll deal with you later,” he muttered, wiping the blade off on the opposite shoulder of Snoke’s shirt, studying it for a moment before testing the weight and looking at Rey. “A decent blade, well made, a little light for me but I suppose I shall keep it all the same.”

“No, I’ll be needing it back, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Silly girl, you really won’t.” He came closer, towering over her. “What was all that rot Snoke was spouting at Ren earlier? Oh yes. A certain poetry to it, I think, using your own blade to end you all. You see, I’ve decided I don’t need you after all. Just the will in which you so sweetly left everything to me, before Snoke oh so viciously attacked you, with your own little knife. Normally I wouldn’t bother with the details, I do know how to delegate, after all, but for once, I believe I shall make an exception.”

He lifted his arm.

Kylo struck first, the second knife, the one she’d been hiding in her hand and slipped him, striking true.

Not a killing blow. Oh no, that would be too easy an escape for the likes of Sheev Palpatine.

Her grandfather gasped and stared up at them as they helped one another stand.

Before the guards could even react, they found themselves being herded at gun point by Armitage (the idiots had bound his hands in front of him and it had been no trouble at all to slip him a weapon after he was searched but before she was disarmed) and—surprisingly enough—Pryde.

Well, that explained how the inside man could get them so much access.

She smiled as Kylo glared down at her grandfather, one arm draped around her as much for support as comfort.

“Never. Threaten. My. Wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, y'all, one more chapter (and MAYBE a short epilogue).


	16. The Return of Ben Solo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren? Ben Solo? Who is he now? There's lots of time to think as he heals and tells Rey all of his secrets. All of them. Including the one he never meant to let slip. Rey has a secret or two of her own.
> 
> _“You better start talking now, and not stop until I am satisfied that every bloody secret you have ever kept from me is out,” she hissed, eyes narrowed. He nodded and she burst into tears and nearly collapsed on him—barely catching herself on the edge of the bed before she could land on his cracked ribs. She grabbed his face in both hands, careful of the cuts and bruises, and began peppering him with kisses and muttering, “I was so scared…I thought you were dead…I love you, my great, bloody idiot,” and then kissed him one more time before she smacked him (in the arm again) for good measure._
> 
> _“I_ really _like her, son,” his father said, his amusement ringing in the words._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter and a very short epilogue to immediately follow. 
> 
> Tags updated again. Pregnancy/babies/spit up etc. as well as violence/the aftermath of violence, emotionally overloaded Rey, possibly mild gore, family drama...(I think you know the drill by now).
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH for your support for this story. It's been fun, and I hope the end is satisfying. 
> 
> [Heiress Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ROSALMpMCP0PykMu2rQfB?si=rA_cNwDGQX26v4E5dU_2QQ)

“Never. Threaten. My. Wife.”

He glared down at Palpatine, refusing to give Snoke the attention he was seeking as the scarred old fucker laughed in triumph.

Kylo hadn’t thought, hadn’t planned. It had been all instinct, like so many of his actions where Rey was concerned.

Palpatine was threatening Rey, Kylo had the knife she’d slipped him with a whispered, “More help is coming, stay alive,” before the guards jerked her away and took the rest of her weapons.

He reacted.

And Snoke relished his own victory.

There hadn’t been much Kylo hadn’t given the old men, Snoke in particular. He’d left his family—even his own name. He’d turned a blind eye to their illegal business dealings, maybe even made things easier for them at times. But he’d never actually taken part in the violence, despite Snoke’s constant urging.

Kylo had a temper, always had, but the way he’d grown up hadn’t given him the opportunity for physical fights—not outside a ring or set of mats, with rules and referees.

Snoke had always claimed it was the next logical step, but somehow him wanting so badly for Kylo Ren to complete the transformation into full monster made Kylo stubbornly refuse.

Until Palpatine was going to harm Rey.

It was easy, and while he hadn’t been in formal training for martial arts or weapons in years, he’d been too disciplined to completely give up on practicing, even if it _had_ all begun at the suggestion of his parents and uncle.

“You’ll notice he isn’t dead,” Rey hissed at Snoke. “For that matter, neither are you, and with the things I know you’ve done, never mind just suspect will be uncovered, you might wish you were, soon.”

There was a rumble and shriek of metal behind them as the security door was breached. Rey helped him turn and both of them gasped when the first figures through the door were not, in fact, Cassian, Jyn, and Din as expected. Rather, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, and Threepio came through the door first, with the others following them.

His mother and uncle approached quickly but warily, like he was some kind of wounded animal that might lash out rather than accept help.

Actually, that was fairly accurate.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Pryde salute Threepio and begin giving a report. So much for the ‘cook’ being retired from his actual job as the head of his mother’s intelligence agency.

He focused on his mother and her twin brother again, tightening his hold on Rey as dizziness swept over him. They didn’t say anything, just _looked_ at him from a few feet away, while he tried to silently convince his own knees not to give out. He realized, dimly, that he was leaning too heavily on Rey, and wondered why the room was getting so dark, then nothing.

He woke to the smell of antiseptic, the beep of medical monitoring equipment, and a rather heated screaming match somewhere nearby.

“Ask him Rey, ask him who put him in that chair! I was there that day; I saw his own son shove him off the side of the bridge!”

_Poe Dameron._

Of course.

Their lives had been a strange cycle of friendship, rivalry, and resentment.

“Now hold on there, what did you just say?”

_Dad?_

“You heard me! I can’t believe you’re still defending him after all this time, Han. He tried to kill you!”

“YOU JUST SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH ABOUT THINGS YOU CLEARLY DON’T UNDERSTAND, POE DAMERON! MY SON SAVED MY LIFE AND NEARLY DIED IN THE PROCESS!”

Wow…he hadn’t realized Han Solo had that in him.

“Dad? Rey?”

Was that really his voice? That brittle, croaking sound? He coughed and groaned at the pain, opening his mouth to try again but the door flew open, his wife and both his parents stuck as they all tried to get through at once.

Their struggle was ceased by the doctor who brusquely ushered them aside and closed the door with a quiet but firm click.

“It’s good to see you awake, your highness.”

“I’m no—”

He was cut off by the thermometer being shoved in his mouth (and where did she even get that—they used the ear things or touchless thermometers…and at least two of the monitors were showing his body temperature as well). “Hold that, will you?” the doctor said, checking his pulse and staring at one of the multitude of monitors around the bed. “Country or no country, abdication or not, you are in fact your mother’s son, prince of Alderaan, whether you want to be or not.”

She ignored his glare.

“No major internal bleeding, only two broken ribs and one broken finger but I’m surprised there weren’t more, a sprained knee, fairly minor lacerations—no stitches needed—and an abundance of rather spectacular bruising. You collapsed from exhaustion and dehydration and should make a full recovery.” She finally looked up from the notes she’d been making (by hand on a clipboard) and stared at him for a long time before offering a friendly smile. “Now, I would prefer that you rest more before having any visitors, but I also need your family out of my hospital before I have to sedate them all for the sake of my other patients. Two at a time, fifteen minutes at most, and I’ll allow _one_ to stay with you for—”

“Rey, I want Rey,” he cut her off.

She nodded and injected something into the IV. “Very well. Any other visitors you’re willing to see? Bear in mind, you won’t be awake for long. We need you to heal, which includes sleeping and not moving some of those injuries just yet. The medication I just gave you will kick in within half an hour or less—probably less.”

He thought about it. Who other than Rey? “Ah…is my sister here? Or my sister-in-law?”

“No, I’m sorry. They _were_ but had to go home to check on the children. They said they will be back, however, and one or the other of them has been calling every thirty minutes to check on you.”

He nodded. “I guess…my dad, then?”

“Of course, your—um, of course, sir.”

He watched as the doctor opened the door and looked at what must be quite the crowd gathered outside. If he was right in his guess, he was in the small, high-security, private hospital near his parents’ home, which meant he was in Coruscant.

“Mrs. Solo? He’s asking to see you.”

There was a pause and then he heard his mother’s voice. “She means you, dear.”

Followed immediately of course by Rey’s “But, I’m not—”

“Actually, yes you are.” Oh, so Lando was out there too. “I should know, since I officiated your wedding and filed all the paperwork. You, Rey, are legally Mrs. Ben Solo, even though you haven’t technically changed your name.”

The door flew open and his wife glared at him. “WHO THE FUCK IS BEN SOLO?”

He smiled, as much as he could around the split lip and the swelling in what he assumed was a gnarly black eye. “Um, yeah, that would be me, I guess…technically…here anyway.”

She stormed across the room as his father wheeled himself into the room behind her.

“Kylo?”

He froze in something that might be terror at the saccharine sweet tone Rey was using. “Uh, yes sweetheart?”

She stroked her hand down his left arm. “Is this arm hurt?”

“Just my hand. Why?” In answer, she punched his bicep. In fairness, it wasn’t nearly as hard as he knew she could hit, but still…he was injured. “Ow! Dammit, Rey!”

“You better start talking now, and not stop until I am satisfied that every bloody secret you have _ever_ kept from me is out,” she hissed, eyes narrowed. He nodded and she burst into tears and nearly collapsed on him—barely catching herself on the edge of the bed before she could land on his cracked ribs. She grabbed his face in both hands, careful of the cuts and bruises, and began peppering him with kisses and muttering, “I was so scared…I thought you were _dead_ …I love you, my great, bloody idiot,” and then kissed him one more time before she smacked him (in the arm again) for good measure.

“I _really_ like her, son,” his father said, his amusement ringing in the words.

He wrapped his uninjured hand around the back of Rey’s neck, because he wanted to kiss his wife, dammit, and gave his father the finger behind her back. Who said he couldn’t multitask?

He grunted when the pressure was too much for his split lip but when Rey tried to pull away, he wouldn’t let her.

Eventually he did release his hold, and Rey pulled a chair as close as possible to the bed and nearly collapsed into it, head resting on the edge of the mattress and hand over his heart.

He stroked her hair and looked up. “Dad?”

“Yeah, son, I know. Me too.” Han Solo paused and glared up at the ceiling for a moment before looking at him again. “She’s right, you know, you really are an idiot.” It was said with affection, though, much the way Rey kept uttering it.

“Yeah…I suppose it’s an inherited trait.”

“I won’t tell your mother you said that.”

“Eh, it skips a generation, or only runs in the male line, something like that.”

His father chuckled, and he felt his eyes—well the one he could actually open all the way, fluttering. Han wheeled himself forward, reaching out and patting his ankle. “I’m going to go for now, but I’ll be back. And you should expect your mother to descend on you the first chance she gets. Get some rest, son.”

He must have been asleep before his father even got to the door, because he never heard it open.

The doctors and nurses in charge of his care (not a large team, due to the security restrictions—it was why the doctor had handled a lot of things nurses usually would when he first woke up) insisted he was healing remarkably quickly.

In his opinion it was entirely too slow.

He spent a lot of time spilling all his secrets to Rey, even accidentally slipping up and telling her about the ridiculous crush he’d had on her mother. She’d brought it up to _every_ visitor he’d had since—and there had, in fact, been a lot of those.

Actually meeting his niece and nephew had been a rare highlight of his recovery. He had discussed it with Kaydel and Rose—and Hux as well, who was not quite so irritating with his sister and her wife around. They had all agreed to wait until the worst of the bruises faded some, so as not to frighten Charlie.

That meant waiting until he’d been discharged from the hospital and moved into the house where Rey had been living. His house, but never really home, at least not until Rey was there.

Charlie had complained about the lack of blood and guts—or at least that was what he thought she was saying and Kaydel and Rose seemed to agree—but otherwise been unphased by the healing scar down his face (not just a black eye after all) and the remaining scabs and bruises visible.

Little Bennie had promptly spit up on his uncle’s clean t-shirt as soon as Rose handed him over and stepped back.

It was…not a bad first meeting in his opinion.

It took three more visits before he managed to hold the infant without being immediately blessed in such a manner. When Rose stepped out to take Charlie to the bathroom, it left him alone with his nephew and he stared down into the tiny face that looked so much like his own, but with Hux’s eyes (and that was quite a disturbing combination).

“So, what do you think, Bennie?” he asked, the baby as if he might get an actual answer. “Would it be too confusing for me to be Uncle Ben? I don’t really feel like someone else anymore, and I think it might be nice to try being Ben again.”

“I think so too,” Rey said from the doorway, and he looked up at her in surprise.

It had been a confusing few weeks of some visitors calling him Ben, others Kylo (or just Ren in Hux’s case) and some stammering a combination of the two or just avoiding calling him anything at all.

“Hey, Sweetheart, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“So I noticed.”

“We were having a very serious discussion.”

Rey just laughed and climbed onto the bed beside him, leaning over to stroke a finger over the baby’s head. “Hi, Bennie,” she whispered softly before sitting up and looking at her husband. “Hi, Ben,” she added, leaning in to kiss him hello.

“I like hearing you say it.”

“Then I’ll keep saying it, although, sometimes, I think I might still call you Kylo,” she said, then gave him a naughty grin, and added, “But I think I’ll save that for when we’re alone.”

Oh, the promise of that…

He craned his neck, watching for Rose to come back and claim the baby. She’d said they’d be leaving soon.

“You know, the doctor did say that as long as I don’t overexert myself, I can start to resume some of my normal activities.”

“Oh, did she?”

“Yes,” he said, watching her shiver as his voice dropped. “I know which one I want to try first.”

Bennie squirmed and began whining, belched, and promptly spit up again. Ben stared down at him, offended by the betrayal as Rey laughed and threw herself back onto the mound of pillows behind her while they waited for Rose to come reclaim her son.

Despite his desire to pursue other activities, the visit with his niece and nephew (and Rose, who was amazing but could also be exhausting on her own) and the effort of cleaning up again after Bennie christened yet another of his shirts, Ben Solo needed a nap.

His wife was happy to oblige, snuggling into his side with a sleepy hum. “You know, if you’re going to change your name again, I think maybe I will too.”

He held his breath for a moment, attempting to calm himself before trying for a nonchalant “Oh?”

“Uh huh. I was thinking maybe Rey Solo wouldn’t be so bad.”

“No, not bad at all.”

“Besides, I’d like to have the same last name as my husband and our baby.”

He was fully awake then, and sat up straight, staring down at her with wide eyes. “Really?” She nodded and bit her lip. “When? How? I mean I know how; I was there…but…”

“I assume it had to be the night in the motel.”

“This is amazing, this is perfect, this is…wait a minute…that was before you came after me.”

She looked away. “I didn’t know, yet, but if I had, I still would have come after you. I would have been more careful, hung back with the reinforcements or waited outside, but I would have come after you.”

“Is…are you…is everything…?”

She sat up and took his hands. “Perfectly fine, we’re both in perfect health. Dr. Holdo came all the way here to make sure. You could have mentioned she was your godmother, you know.”

“I did…or I thought I did, that day I told you how Lando and Chewie are my uncles, and Poe was practically a cousin growing up, and Maz is my aunt even though none of us are actually related.”

“Oh…I think that was the day I fell asleep.”

“Yes, sorry I bored you with my complicated family dynamics,” he said in mock-offense before leaning in and kissing her soundly.

She rolled her eyes at him, kissed his nose, and then lay down, pulling him with her. “I think I’d quite like to find out if Ben Solo is half as good in bed as my husband,” she said, and he nipped at her bottom lip with a playful growl.

“Just bear in mind, I’m working with multiple injuries here,” he muttered, already working her pants down over her hips.

“I shall endeavor to recall that fact, sir,” she said with a giggle that trailed off into a moan, and then neither of them used words for quite some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, there wasn't a ton of resolution with Palpatine and Snoke, but this has all been about Rey and Kylo/Ben, from their perspectives, and their part is done, at least for now (and no that is not a sequel tease, it's a statement of fact about the moment of time where this story/chapter ends). 
> 
> Like with the Field Goal Trilogy, we are at the stopping point of the story being told, not an _ending_ if that makes sense. 
> 
> Stick around for a very short epilogue from the POV of the character who surprised me the most.


	17. Epilogue: The Cook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Threepio muses on his family, as they gather and wait for the newest members to enter the world. 
> 
> _He looked around him, at his friends—his family, and felt as if the pride and affection for them all would make him burst._
> 
> _Dear, sweet Charlotte Kenobi had been the first named in his honor, but not the last._
> 
> _His protests had fallen on deaf ears with each new, tiny bundle of potential, as one by one they were all named after him in some way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, a glimpse a few months into the future, from Threepio's perspective.
> 
> I hadn't intended to include him at all. In fact, his role as a spy was originally going to go to Leia. But I needed someone who knew Ben from childhood and loved and supported him unconditionally, someone he could trust who had never betrayed him, and someone with _connections._ Even after writing him in as the cook, and implying he'd been a servant and/or trusted advisor, I didn't realize just how important he would be in the last few chapters, but I am glad he was. 
> 
> If you don't want to read his musings, the story is basically complete as of chapter 16, but for a glimpse into his life (and why the heck there are so many characters with C names) read on.

Charles Covington Chatsworth, III—often called “the royal parole officer” by certain individuals (specifically, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, and Leia Organa), former head of Her Majesty’s Intelligence Bureau shifted uncomfortably in his chair. His old bones protested every position these days, but the discomfort would be rewarded soon enough.

He looked around him, at his friends—his family, and felt as if the pride and affection for them all would make him burst.

Dear, sweet Charlotte Kenobi had been the first named in his honor, but not the last.

His protests had fallen on deaf ears with each new, tiny bundle of potential, as one by one they were all named after him in some way.

Prince Benjamin Charles Skywalker Organa-Solo had been placed in his arms by a beaming Han Solo despite the fact that the man had to walk right past Luke Skywalker to do so. When he’d protested the impropriety, it had been Luke who had shut him down, insisting it was the right thing.

Princess Kaydel Claire Constance Charlotte Organa-Solo had been the first with three C’s in her list of names. Her parents had held her, and then her brother, who in turn passed her into Threepio’s arms with a protest of, “No, Threepio was supposed to be third, like with me.”

Valerie Desiree Constance Catherine Charlotte Kenobi-Palpatine had followed suit a few short months later.

Her highness, Princess Kaydel, had lifted her newborn daughter from an exhausted Rose’s arms and bypassed Armitage Hux—the child’s own father and the final third of their unusual but no less loving and committed relationship—to deposit the sleeping infant in his arms. “Charlotte Claire Camilla Paige Olivia Tico,” she said. “We’re calling her Charlie for short.”

He hadn’t been there, for little Benjamin, but he’d received a photograph from Miss Rose, sent only to himself and Armitage, with the message: _Benjamin Charles Nicholas Covington Tico, Bennie for short._

He’d insisted they not give the boy some ridiculously long moniker containing the initials CCCPO…they had agreed. He smiled down at the screen in his hand and shook his head. He had known it had been too easy, but this…his eyes had misted over and he had excused himself from Mistress Rey’s company until he could control his emotions.

The madness should have ended there, and yet, he suspected it would continue, under the guise of tradition.

Threepio was pulled from his thoughts as a door opened and Master Benjamin stepped into the waiting area, grinning at them all. “They’re perfect,” he said, proudly. “Rey’s pretty wiped out, and they said only one visitor for now,” he added, and every eye in the room turned to the old man in the corner.

He shook his head in denial but was met with a chorus of insistent _yes_ and _go_ and _tradition_ as he found himself being steered through the door and down a quiet hallway to the door at the far end. “I wouldn’t have this, any of this, if not for you,” Ben said quietly, just before opening the door.

Rey beamed at him, bare shoulders peeking out from the sheet pulled high up on her torso. “Skin to skin bonding time,” she managed, voice strained. “I hope you aren’t terribly uncomfortable.”

“No, miss,” he said, knowing he sounded terribly uncomfortable. The new parents chuckled.

“Here, sit,” Ben said, indicating one of the chairs by the bed—the one with the most cushions. “It’s um, it’s easier to hold both at once if you aren’t standing.” Rey snickered and Ben blushed. “I may have had a small moment of panic when they were both handed to me at once.”

“You nearly passed out,” Rey teased.

“There was a _lot_ of blood before then, and they were all slippery, and they’re so tiny but long…”

Rey laughed again. “Go on, then, introduce them.”

Ben retrieved one bundle of blankets and deposited it in the hold of Threepio’s left arm, returning and placing the second in his right.

“Lucas Rhys Solo,” Master Ben said, sounding a bit nervous, “And Bazine Rose Solo.”

Something like relief shot through him.

“It’s just, legacy and tradition and all those people with the same name, it’s confusing and a lot of pressure, and Rey and I, we hoped we could honor a few other people important to us and maybe you’d let us honor _you_ in another way.” Ben was pacing, tugging at his hair, as he’d always done when agitated. “We just...” he glanced back at Rey and took a deep breath. “We were hoping, if it’s okay, you could be their…well, their grandfather, technically honorary grandfather, I guess, but…”

“Sir, it would be the greatest honor of my life,” Threepio said, voice breaking. He took a shaky breath, shifting the sleeping infants in his arms and staring down at them as he fought to regain his composure. “I do, however, implore you not to ever speak of this to your sister. I will deny I ever said anything of the sort.”

It didn’t matter that a tear slipped out, followed by another, and perhaps a few more after that. His eyes weren’t the only ones wet. “I daresay, with the two of you as parents, it’s for the best I be on hand to prevent too much mischief.”

“Of course,” Rey said, “We expect you to ensure they only get up to the best mischief. Top-tier. Minor mischief is a waste of their potential.”

“After all, their other grandfather is, well, _Dad_ ,” Ben added, and Threepio felt himself pale a bit.

“Ah, yes, perhaps I should reconsider. After all, coming out of retirement again may prove safer.”

Little Rosie, as she would come to be called (by even her Auntie Baz, though not without protest), chose that moment to wake with a distressed cry, her brother following suit.


End file.
